Baby Whisperer
by compass54
Summary: She manipulated me so easily. Twenty-one, beautiful and curious is a perilous mix. Olderward. Jazz music. He's a successful classical pianist who doesn't believe in marriage. She's still in college. They meet at his manager's wedding and he doesn't stand a chance. Host's Choice and Judge's Choice in the May to December Romance Contest.
1. Chapter 1

**My entry for the May to December Romance Contest. Thanks to NicficWhisperer and CarrieZM for an amazingly fun and successful contest. It was an honor to be part of it. Thank you so much for the nod from NicficWhisperer and MrsSpaceCowboy. They blew me away when they chose my entry. **

**Many thanks to my wonderful girls who help me scrutinize my words - AudiR8, Edwards Beachlover and VampyreGirl86 - also thanks to those who left reviews and made me so happy.**

**Disclaimer**: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

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_**Edward**_

I could have declined the invitation to Garrett's second wedding, but his friendship is important to me. As my agent, he's worked for years to help me carve out a niche in the very ruthless business of piano performance.

His first wife, my cousin, Rose, told me she would never speak to me again if I attended. She's our diva, a mezzo-soprano, true-soprano-wannabe, whose stage career has been built more on her formidable personality than on her ability to sustain the highest notes. She's tall and built, "strong as an ox," is how I describe her.

I warned Garrett that Rose was a handful but he ignored me, charging ahead and marrying without really knowing her. Their divorce came as no surprise, only the length of time they kept trying to make it work.

She is so volatile that I know she will forgive me quickly, seeking details and dirt on how awful the wedding was, but their day has been elegant and relaxed. His new wife, Kate, is a much better match for him, I hope.

Garrett knows my feelings on the sanctimonious institution that our society relies on. We've spent many nights arguing if all such unions are doomed to failure.

He romantically believes that marriage is a holy sacrament, a covenant between two like-minded people, an agreement, a commitment to a stable life for children.

My argument is that marriage forces two people to give up the individuality that first attracted them to each other, becoming an amalgamation that eventually suits neither. Little parts of them will break out of the confines eventually.

I see it with couples, when one takes the limelight and the other sighs like they've heard it all before, or worse, they wonder how they ever became the other half of a duo.

Today, Garrett marries in front of me again, and all I can do is watch.

They seat me with a mixture of business acquaintances who all know of me when I've never heard Garrett speak of any of them, and the conversation is quite stimulating until they start comparing their private lives, children and general stresses.

With nothing to contribute, I excuse myself after the main course and head to the bar for an appropriate end to the meal. They have a good selection of whiskey and, from here, I can observe like a predator, watching for a beautiful stray woman to become my dessert.

Garrett and Kate are mingling as other people get up from their seats to visit nearby tables, greeting each other with hugs and smiles. His family has grown immensely since the last time, when I was his groomsman, and I try to remember who is who without any luck. There are tables of older teenagers and young adults now, probably his grown up nieces and nephews.

Garrett is the youngest son, one of two from a marriage that brought with it three older siblings from his father, a widower. They waited years to settle down as a family before deciding to have more of their own, so there is quite a gap in ages.

I find the concept of his large family interesting because it is so foreign to me. Rose is my only cousin and sometimes I wonder if either of us would have achieved much success if we had to share our parents and income with brothers and sisters. Would a fraction of my mother's time have been enough to get me through my rebellious years? Would Edward Senior have paid for my tuition to Juilliard? Just thinking about those two makes me sigh, so I finish the drink and turn around to peruse the females on offer.

That's when I see _her_.

Hidden by a few people standing and chatting, she suddenly appears in my field of vision, reacting to a small child who lets out a cry. She dashes over and picks him up, kissing his cheek and settling him down by talking with her lips to his ear. I cannot stop staring and a wonderful feeling of relaxation courses through me when the tiny boy closes his eyes, twisting his finger in a tendril of her hair. It's hypnotic.

Aware of the smile creeping onto my face, I watch her gently rock the child as she sways her hips. An older male approaches and takes the boy, thanking her. She looks around, lost for a moment, and then smooths her dress down her thighs before returning to her table.

I don't think the child is hers but she has assumed some responsibility for him, so maybe he is the son of a friend or even her nephew. It is possible that the children here are a new layer in Garrett's tribe.

The same people are still standing in front of her and, with some annoyance, I move to another stool where I can better see. Her seat is now empty so I scan the room and find her partly obscured within a small group of what looks like family.

Frustrated, I order another whiskey, taking a few sips and swirling the liquid in the glass.

"Are you okay?" The smoothest of sultry voices rouses me from my focus on the drink. I glance up and see it is the same girl, accepting two glasses of champagne from the bartender as she tilts her head in question.

"I'm fine," I answer, trying to avert my eyes from the dress advertising her curves. She is younger up close and, regrettably, much too young for me. I still admire her beautiful neck and the tiny pieces of hair that escape from the soft updo of curls at the back of her head. The slight blush of pink on her cheeks complements the color of her lips and her thick black eyelashes.

Her perfection is blinding.

"You're sitting over here on your own in the middle of a wedding. Do you want to come and sit at our table?"

My heart contracts. It might be because her vivid blue eyes search mine compassionately for an answer, or the incredibly kind offer when she has no idea who I am or why I am sitting here.

The truth – that I'm looking for a potential someone to fuck later – would send her away, disgusted probably.

"No, I'm good… really." Her frown, combined with a little pout, makes me protest my answer further. "Really."

"I'll be right back. I just have to deliver this drink," she offers enthusiastically as she walks into the crowd on her very high heels. I have to turn away from the sight of her ankles and shapely calves.

Who is this baby whisperer with a voice full of sex and a heart filled with kindness?

I play with my glass again, toying with the idea of her coming back to tempt me. This is a line I have never crossed, and it isn't going to happen at Garrett's wedding. She has to have a boyfriend around here somewhere.

Trying to ignore her return when the champagne flute appears back on the bar, I run my fingers around the edge of my glass.

"You have such long fingers."

The enchanting voice makes me look up into her beautiful face and I catch a suggestive flicker of an eyebrow.

"Yes, I play the piano… for a living."

Her smile lights up those eyes. "I'm going to be a teacher. I'm studying early childhood education and exceptional needs."

_Still in college. I should get out of here and run for my life._

"So what are you doing on your own, Mister Lonesome?" she asks, taking the stool next to me.

"It's a little awkward for me tonight. I'm Edward, Garrett's first wife's cousin."

"Quite a mouthful. You should be taking notes if you're spying for Rose. I thought you must be sitting here for a reason."

I start to laugh because she's joking, but her observation is right on the mark. Rose will be on the phone no later than Monday, wringing every piece of gossip out of me.

She smirks and traces the stem of her glass. Her nails are French polished, classically beautiful like the rest of her.

"There, that's better. You should smile more often, Edward. It suits you."

Smiling at this girl is easy. The more I look at her and listen to her voice, the more delightful she becomes.

"So, where do _you_ fit in?"

She motions to the bartender with her finger from her glass to me. "Sorry, I'm Bella, Garrett's niece. My mom's his sister."

_Of course she's his niece and still in college. This gets worse by the minute._

Another glass of champagne appears and she says, "Take this back to your seat. The toasts are about to start. We should have a dance later, Edward."

"Sure," I reply, regretting the word as it comes out of my mouth, and with that, she is gone to the tinkling sound of silver on glass.

During the lengthy speeches, I look her way often and each time she senses my eyes on her, she returns a smile. The draw I feel seems to grow with every bit of eye contact and I decide that I _will_ ask her to dance, just to feel what it's like to have her in my arms for a few songs.

The idea of finding another woman at this wedding has lost its appeal, but nothing will happen with _this_ girl. Garrett's friendship is too important to risk even the tiniest kiss.

The music starting interrupts my daydreaming and we watch the bride and groom dance. Couples stand to join them and soon there are empty seats everywhere. When I see Bella dancing with a man I assume to be her father or uncle, I'm just about to get another drink when a woman I haven't laid eyes on all evening asks me to dance.

Respectfully, I agree and accompany her onto the dance floor, moving us closer to Bella, waiting to see if a boyfriend claims her, but she continues to dance with people who act like family. A couple of times, I catch her partner look over and then shake his head, as if she asked a question about me. This makes me more impatient to get a dance with her.

My current partner, obviously bored and tired of my lack of attention and insufficient small talk, decides to sit down at the end of the next song and, as I escort her back to her table, Bella grabs my hand and says in a bubbly voice, "Hey, my turn," yanking me back out to dance.

She follows well with her hand on my shoulder, allowing it to gradually creep around the back of my neck. With my arm wrapped around her, I hold her other hand close to my chest, looking into her eyes, pointlessly fantasizing that she's older. When she sighs and rests her cheek on my chest, I ask if she's tired and she just shakes her head, holding me tighter.

No other men try to cut in and we dance like this until I spot Garrett, furiously glaring at me. We are one of only a dozen couples left on the floor and he's made an incorrect assumption.

"That's enough," I say, straightening up.

"Why?" she asks dreamily.

"Garrett's giving me the eye, warning me I'm too old for you."

"Hey." She touches her finger to my jaw. "If I want to dance with a good looking man, I'll do it. I'm no child."

I smile at her compliment, almost forgetting Garrett's accusing stare, until reality sobers me again.

"Nevertheless, he's right. I don't know what I was thinking. How old _are_ you, Bella?"

"Twenty-one, but we're only dancing."

"Jesus, I'm thirty-six." I sigh, just thinking about it.

"And totally hot."

_This girl… _

"And you are so very dangerous," I reply, chuckling, and continue to dance.

"Hmm, much better," she whispers, nestling back into my chest, as I catch sight of Garrett, shaking his head and sitting down with his wife. I know I haven't heard the last of this but we are doing nothing wrong and it isn't as if I'm forcing her to keep dancing with me.

Someone calls to her to say goodbye to her relatives and I return to my table, feeling awkward and alone. Knowing there can be nothing between us doesn't stop me from wanting to say goodnight and tell her I enjoyed her company.

After five minutes of feeling ridiculous, I decide it's best to just go, avoiding the people surrounding Garrett and Kate. Then I feel a tug on my pocket and look up to see Bella speeding away without looking back, calling out to someone that she is coming.

On inspection, I find a tiny note with a phone number and wonder what she is trying to tell me. Should I call her one day in the future or soon, like later tonight? I decide to text her and then she'll have my number. It takes me several attempts to get the wording correct, concentrating on not sounding too final or obviously encouraging.

"I very much enjoyed your company tonight, baby whisperer. If you need me just call."

As soon as I send it, I realize how strange it must sound and that I haven't included my name. I have to resist the itch to send a follow up, knowing I should never have sent the first one, frustrated at losing control of the situation and wondering what is wrong with me.

The sound of an incoming text makes my fingers twitch when I see it's from her.

"_Edward?"_

"Yes, Bella."

"_Baby whisperer?"_

"I watched you soothe that little boy."

"_Ah. He was my nephew."_

It isn't a question so I wait, wondering if there is any more, before I walk out on the street, ready to call a cab, jealously watching other people leave with their partners. This isn't like me and I know it's not about sex. I should be saying goodbye to her in person.

Another text pops up. _"Where are you?"_

"Out front. I'm calling a cab."

"_WHAAAAAAT! NOOOOOOOOOO! DON'T LEAVE! CAN I COME WITH YOU?"_

The intensity of the response startles me, reinforcing the fact that I must stifle this now.

"No."

"_Can I see you before you go? I want to say goodnight."_

"No."

"_This is stupid. I'm coming out there."_

"Don't you dare."

"_Too late. On my way."_

I actually look around for somewhere to hide and then start to laugh because this _is_ stupid. We should be allowed to say goodbye as friends who have just enjoyed an evening together.

We're doing nothing wrong.

It's just that I like her. Seeing her walk out that front gate and smile when she spots me makes my heart leap in my chest.

"You're incorrigible," I say with a grin.

"I'll drive you. I have a car."

"Definitely not," I reply quickly. I can't admit that I would love to spend some more time with her.

"People won't see us leave together. You could walk around the corner and then get in."

There seems to be no stopping this girl. She quashes every argument before I have a chance to offer it up and the hopeful smile is affecting my resolve. Knowing this is madness, I feel like she will hunt me down if I don't capitulate. It isn't an entirely bad feeling either.

"Please."

The sound of her voice, along with the puppy dog expression breaks me.

"All right," I agree with a shrug.

She beams at me victoriously and her tongue pokes out between her teeth. "Go up to the corner and turn left. Everyone else will be going right." When there are no more instructions forthcoming, I nod and she calls out loudly, "Goodnight," working the charade, before turning and heading in the opposite direction.

I take off up the street and, once I turn left, I keep going, looking back for any sign of headlights, not knowing how far away her car is, and suddenly anxious about her safety on the street. More minutes pass before I turn to jog back, only to be met by an unexpectedly stylish car approaching.

When she stops and lets the window down, I ask, "You drive a Lexus?"

"No, this is Mom's. I don't own a car."

_Right, of course. She's a college student. Just get in and stop anticipating her._

"I'm sorry I took so long but… my cousin wanted to say goodbye and…" She doesn't finish the sentence when her eyes lock on my lips.

"It's okay." I am so out of my comfort zone in the front passenger seat.

"So, which way, Edward?"

"Take the next right. It's just north of downtown."

"Are you at a hotel?" she asks, as if this displeases her.

"No, I live in the city. This is my only permanent residence."

She looks a little confused and then asks, "Why do you call it that?"

"I travel a lot."

"Got it."

Her reaction or lack of it almost wounds me. There are no more questions and she turns on the radio, fiddling with the buttons until I take over.

"What kinds of music do you like, Bella?"

"I like everything, but no head banging stuff this late. Maybe something calming if I'm driving into the city."

"Are you nervous?" I ask, finding a classical station.

"I don't know where I'm going. Mom will kill me if I damage her car."

Eugen Doga's "Gramophone" is playing and I turn it up slightly, enjoying its cheekiness. One of the highlights of my earliest career was playing this with a major orchestra and I've never forgotten it. I requested that Garrett play it at the wedding.

"Would you like me to drive?"

"No, you wouldn't be covered by her insurance."

I chuckle at the way her mind works. Ready to drive half way across town to drop off a man she barely knows; her worry is the possibility of denting the car in the process.

"What are you laughing about?" she asks, glancing over briefly and frowning.

"You," I answer, shaking my head but grinning at her. The frown takes a while to disappear, but eventually she begins to move to the rhythm of the waltz.

"I'm sure they played this at the wedding. It sounds like something from a music box."

"It does," I agree, pleased she noticed.

She is a good driver and I spend time admiring how she twists her body as she checks carefully before switching lanes. It amazes me how women can use the pedals in such high heels, but it doesn't seem to bother her.

As we reach the downtown area, she slows her speed and carefully navigates from my instructions. The street is deserted when I point out the entry to the parking lot and she turns in, puts the car in park, pulls on the hand brake, and faces me.

"So goodnight, Edward," she says, staring at my lips.

Undoing the seat belt, I feel her hand on my thigh and her eyes hold an apology.

"I just wanted… just to see what it would be like to… you know… kiss you goodnight."

This has happened because I have allowed it, so I will kiss her but it will be over quickly.

She turns her head, opens her mouth slightly and meets my lips, but our tongues get involved. Before I know it, my hands are moving from her jaw to her neck and she's there with me for every heavy breath and hungry taste of her tongue.

She kisses with a passion born from need, as if it has been a while, and I react like a man cherishing an almost virginal quality. I pull back, believing I can end this now, and I look at her, smoothing her hair and smiling when she hums in satisfaction and her eyes remain closed. I have to kiss her lids and then her cheeks, but when her eyes open, she feeds her fingers into my hair and licks her lips with a new intent.

"More," she purrs, scratching the back of my head.

Without thinking, I start kissing her with a powerful desire, devouring every delicious moan, licking the taste of her neck.

"Edward," she cries out, panting. "We can't do this."

In my head, I'm already buried deep inside her, holding her still while her hot pussy encases me. Releasing her, I fall back against my seat, struggling with a throbbing erection. Her fingers squeeze my leg softly, close to my balls, and she leans over, touching her lips to my ear, just like she did with her nephew.

"I mean we can't do this here."

The vibrations of the words in my ear make it hard to deal with a fuzzy set of alternatives. Should I say no outright and get out now, or offer her the security code? Should I run around and enter it myself? Am I even able to in this state? Will she think me rude if I don't give her the code, as if I am trying to hide it from her? More importantly, should we discuss her expectations about what's going to happen, because my dick is making a pretty compelling statement about what it wants.

It's either the feel of her tongue or her teeth as she grazes my earlobe that makes the decision for me. I gush out a breath and say, "Three six two one," and she quickly punches in the number as if she's been waiting for it, kissing me again when the door starts to rise.

"God you are hot," she says, smiling at another victory.

_This girl_… She has the most incredible effect on me.

Once her car is in my spare parking spot, there's a charge in the air all around us and she takes my hand to follow me to my elevator.

As soon as I press the button, the doors open and I enter my code. She doesn't take any notice, interested only in her hands roaming inside my jacket. By the time the doors part on the top floor, she's tugging my hair and her thigh is between mine, rubbing against my epic erection as she kisses the hell out of me.

If she really wants to, I _will_ happily fuck her in this elevator, but my preference is to get her inside and savor the experience. Garrett will never believe that she came on to me and, since I am probably going to hell for this indiscretion, I will damn well enjoy her.

Without breaking the kiss, I lift her and walk us into the living room, setting her down in the huge space. This room impresses everyone who comes in here, but her attention is all on me. The purse hits the floor as both hands squeeze my ass.

Normally, if I get this kind of reaction from a woman, I'm finding the quickest way to fuck her, maybe ripping underwear in the process, but I want to commit every detail of this encounter to memory. Removing her hands, I leave them at her side, take a step back and then walk around her, imagining what is under the dress.

Suddenly nervous, she asks, "What are you doing?"

"Admiring you." I stay back, ignoring the pain still pulsing in my dick.

When I hold my hand out, she looks at it and gulps, so I invite her gently. "Follow me."

Walking backwards, I watch her eyes dart around the hallway, as if she senses danger, but as soon as we reach the bedroom, she lets out a long slow breath and then launches at me, grabbing for my belt buckle.

I hold her wrist and ask her to slow down, lavishing attention on her glorious neck. When I hear her whimper, I tell her she has nothing to fear. She seems to relax, allowing me to proceed without any resistance.

We laugh at the number of pins we pull from her hair as the curls fall down her back. Helping her take her dress off, I gasp when I see she's been braless all evening and I get to squeeze her incredible tits.

The shoes have to go. They are like weapons. The tiny panties and thigh high stockings stay. As she lies on the bed, her arousal increases as I touch her, and I start to lose myself in the feel of her young flesh. My tongue and teeth battle for dominance over nipples and I leave pink marks, chewing on her when she pulls my hair.

I know I _am_ going to hell for this, but it's going to be worth it.

Finding her wet and ready is both a relief and a compliment. Watching her reaction as I explore her pussy is so erotic that every tiny breath goes straight to my dick. I tease, rather than assault the rough spot inside her. Breathlessly, she tells me wants me naked and, when I finish taking my clothes off, her eyes light up with a new fear.

"Does it get bigger as you get older?" she asks, staring at my dick.

I look down, seeing nothing unusual, and have to work hard not to laugh, shaking my head as I get a condom from my nightstand.

"Jesus," she mutters, watching me roll it down.

As I slide her panties off, her eyes glow with anticipation. Sitting back on my heels, I lift her over me, placing her tits right in front of my greedy mouth.

When I push into her, she lets out a breath from deep in her chest and leans her head back, making me moan at the sight of her curls hanging down in the air. She is so light in my arms that I can easily maneuver her, leaning her further back to find the angle that stimulates her.

Placing her elbows on the bed, she smiles and starts to move with me. I feel the moment when I've hit the right spot because the soft gasp and the closed eyes are unmistakable.

She's silent, apart from her breathing, and I watch in rapture as her body communicates with me. The flush on her neck and chest appears at the same time as her breathing increases. When she holds her breath and her pussy squeezes me, I'm grunting as the ripple turns into spasms, and she gushes more liquid before she breathes again.

When a dreamy smile appears on her face, I pull her up to kiss me but she rolls me on my back and takes over. She's a grinder, tilting her pelvis to fuck me, and I lay there losing my mind with her hot breath in my ear, her tits at my collarbone and my hands on her ass.

Once she starts kissing me and kneading my chest, I lose the ability to hold off and the orgasm rocks me as I try to keep her still.

She raises her arms in a delicious stretch and then gets off me, laying down like a rag doll and closing her eyes. When I call her name softly, I find that she's already fallen asleep.

Dismayed, I deal with the condom, put on my old jeans and go to the piano. The instrument always serves to clear my head and I need to make sense of my lack of conscience over what I've just done.

Starting to play, I know whatever I choose will be the piece I revisit whenever I want to remember this night and the beautiful young girl who seduced me so easily. After a while, I realize I am playing something new and I start writing the notation, smiling at the simplicity forming in front of me.

I look up and she's standing beside me, naked in my unbuttoned shirt, looking more desirable than anything I've ever seen, and I slide my hands around her waist, watching them move over her curves.

"More," she whispers, showing me the condoms in her pocket before popping them back in and smirking. When she threads her fingers through my hair, I don't remove the shirt, enjoying the feel of her almost wearing it. We fuck on the piano stool and then outside on my rooftop terrace with the buildings of Chicago overlooking us. The sight of her climax in the moonlight is breathtaking but the chill of the night makes us retreat to the warmth of my bed.

Turning on her side to lean on her elbow, she asks, "You don't remember me at all do you?"

I shake my head, wondering where this is going.

"I was fourteen when Garrett got married the first time and Rose's cousin, Edward, was the hot guy in the wedding party. You were my first big crush." She suddenly looks down. "I overheard Garrett and Kate talking about you and saying you were coming to the wedding on your own. When they started speculating on which woman you would take home, I wanted it to be me."

Running a finger into her cleavage, I reply, "You acted on your desires. There's nothing wrong with that."

"You _have_ had a lot of experience, right?"

"Some." The one word answer is enough.

"Well I haven't, and neither of my ex-boyfriends could get me off. I thought there was something wrong with me, but that was better than every fantasy I've had about you."

"I'm flattered." I really am genuinely touched.

"Do you think it's because we won't see each other again?"

Sadly, one of us has to say something like this at some point, but hearing her ask it so easily makes my chest feel hollow.

"I don't know."

Running her hand down from my abs, she strokes my balls, then climbs on top of me and says, "More."

Soon I'm fumbling to get another condom – the fourth one tonight.

Sometime later in the dark, a dream takes me to an incredible place of contentment where her lips whisper in my ear and her soft cheek caresses mine.

I awake to the sound of the security intercom. Dragging myself out of sleep, I ask, "What is it, Seth?"

"Sir, you have company. Charles and Bella Swan. Can I send them up?"

Instantly, I know this is trouble. I didn't even know that she'd left.

"Yes, Seth, it's fine."

Dressing quickly, I barely make it out of the bedroom before they're at the entry to the apartment. I recognize the man from the wedding who was dancing with Bella, the big guy with the moustache, obviously her father. Bella's eyes are red as if she'd been crying. He stands back, taking everything in without saying a word, and she walks in further, looking panic-stricken.

"Do you know if my phone's here? I've been trying to call it all morning but I think it's on vibrate."

"I… I'm not sure," I answer, helping her search, and find it peeking out from under the couch, right where she dropped her purse. "Here." When I hand it to her, she squeezes my hand as she takes it, looking relieved.

"Thank you, Edward. I'm sorry, but we have to go. We're driving back home." She is trying to sound casually friendly but I can tell her voice is constricted.

"Come on," her father calls to her gruffly, with one last glance around before his eyes fix on me, full of contempt.

"Bye." With her eyes welling with tears, she holds up a hand to wave as they leave, and mouths the word, "sorry."

Like a statue, I stand and stare at the back of my door, puzzled over what just took place. Bella's emotional state and her father accompanying her says that this was about more than a lost phone. If she told them what we did last night, I'd already have a bruise in the shape of her father's fist, and she said it herself, that we wouldn't see each other again, so what happened?

I can't concentrate on anything else. Two coffees and a failed attempt to practice later, I get my answer when my agent calls. There is no round up of how he thinks the wedding went, not even a greeting, and he takes a couple of breaths before he speaks.

"_Tell me you didn't fuck my niece, Edward."_

"Hi, Garrett, nice wedding," I respond, trying to sound calm and avoid the question.

"_You did, didn't you?"_

"Bella _was_ here Garrett, but nothing happened."

"_Don't lie to me. She came in at four and I know how you work. We're done, man. I'll wind up any current contracts but, after that, I no longer work for you."_

Jesus. "You're overreacting. Who told you this?"

"_The whole family knows! Did it have to be an innocent like Bella? She's twenty-one and going to be a pre-school teacher. Have you fucking lost it?"_

I can't say anything but… innocent? Is he talking about the same girl? She doesn't kiss or fuck like one. In fact, she was open about the fact that she wanted to draw on my experience.

"_Edward?"_

"What?"

"_She's in a shit-storm of trouble with Charlie and Renee. Why is she trying to protect you?"_

"I don't know what you're talking about. As I said, nothing happened."

"_Forget it,"_ he grumbles, ending the call.

Feeling certain she will call me to explain, an hour later, I'm still going over scenarios of what may have occurred. Replaying every detail of the previous evening, I'm not sure I was ever in control. She manipulated me so easily. Twenty-one, beautiful and curious is a perilous mix. Without me even knowing, she was moving us step by step toward something she'd wanted since she was fourteen.

I recognize the tenacity because that was me in my twenties.

In the world of classical piano, few ever make it on talent alone, and it can be demoralizing when rigorous memorizing and perfecting of the most complicated pieces won't even get you noticed. It requires some hook or unusual flamboyance to attract audiences and sell records. In my case, Garrett recommended I use sex, or sex appeal.

Along with piano practice, my agent insists that I keep in shape and have my suits tailored to emphasize the fact. There are only three salons in the U.S. that are permitted to cut my hair. He has set up modelling jobs, even underwear ads, all in the name of "raising my profile."

Part of my PA's job is to proliferate a persona where I date beautiful women and she monitors rumors that usually play out in social media.

Sex isn't something that happens with any sort of regularity and I rarely go looking for it, but there is never a shortage of piano concert groupies, just as brazen as those that follow the rock and roll crowd. Maybe they dress a little better and aren't as high on drugs.

The truth is that I do spend time fucking beautiful women, but dating is for business. Real dating leads to relationships.

At thirty-six, the idea of the long-term relationship makes no sense to me. I watched my parents divorce and unapologetically re-marry, leaving them with a marriage that is still shaky.

Rose's parents were no better example, spending ten tumultuous years together before they split, making Rose bitter, guilty, spoilt and opinionated. She, like me, uses disastrous family lives to excuse our issues with commitment. With a failed marriage behind her, she is now just like me.

I make love like I play the piano. It's easy to become a character, like performing, meeting the specific audience's expectations before moving on to a different gig. Each woman has her own melody and it takes skill to find the right tempo and texture of elements from my repertoire to get her singing in my bed, and I really do like to perform well.

I have fallen in love with some of these women in the briefest sense and I draw from the experiences when composing and performing. A particularly powerful orgasm is a wonderful thing to immerse oneself in when approaching a crescendo and it amuses me greatly when the audience only sees me as the consummate professional.

People often tell me that my playing seems effortless. Little do they know, my mother had to coerce me through phases where I reached my limit with the constant practice and focus, desperate to end what had become a chore, and do something normal like playing ball or getting wasted.

Thank God, she showed me the value of persistence because I have no idea what else I would have done with my life. This career has given me everything I could ever want: money, travel, women, accolades and minions who are expert at producing out of thin air any number of things from a whim of mine. Doing something I love is a gift I'm enormously grateful for.

I still have dreams and a lot of work ahead to achieve them, but it takes time. While the recording studio is finished, it still sits unused as a point of contention. This is an important time in my career, so I'll grovel and do whatever it takes to make sure I don't lose my agent and his friendship right now.

It's time to face the music and call my PA.

"Alee?" I ask, using my most insincere voice.

"_Oh God, you people, it's Sunday. First Garrett, and now you. Did you do it?"_

Shit, he got to her before me.

"Do what, Alice?"

"_Sleep with his niece?"_

"Of course not. She remembered me from the first wedding and came up to see the apartment, that's all."

"_I live to bullshit for you, Edward, and you're lying through your teeth. Without the phone, you might have gotten away with it."_

Bitch speaks the truth. She knows me too well.

"She was nice."

There is silence on the other end of the phone, probably while she practices her next jab at me.

"_Nice. Edward, you've never called a girl nice before. Shit, what did you do to her?"_

"Oh Jesus, Alice, stop it. I need to fix this with Garrett."

"_Uh, uh, not my problem."_

"Just set up a meeting and tell him I'll do anything he says."

I hear the phone hit some surface while she claps her hands and laughs.

"Text me!" I yell into the phone and end the call.

* * *

The next week drags while Garrett and Kate spend their honeymoon in New York. Rose calls, as expected, frustrated with my complimentary report on the wedding and lack of photos to share with her. I don't have the will to stir her up.

Without a peep out of Bella, I'm surprised that my mind is still fixated on her. I even contemplate doing something I've never done before – calling after a one-night-stand. Realizing I know nothing about the girl, I try combing the internet, but come up with very little.

That's where Seth comes in. He worked in security for thirty years before he took over my building and he's helped a couple of times before when I needed information. It takes three days and five hundred dollars for the envelope to slide under my door.

Isabella Marie Swan has no police record and her address is the same as her parents. She has $315 in a bank account and a zero balance on her credit card.

At least half of her big family lives within a ten-mile radius, but that doesn't say much since Lafayette isn't a big town. Her father is a cop. I find this piece of information intimidating and it explains why he scrutinized my apartment as if it was the scene of a crime.

There are photos, mostly family pictures and school shots, but a few show the two boyfriends she mentioned, Michael Newton and Jacob Black, both residents of Lafayette. I look at their fresh faces and only see their lack of skills in bed - after all, they are the reason she came to mine. Just thinking about those tits, my dick still wakes up.

Trying to get my head out of the gutter, I read further and find she worked part-time at a hardware store, coincidentally named "Newton's," but she's done charity work, something we have in common. Garrett has arranged quite a few events where I played for a good cause and I encourage it, having plenty to give back.

Bella is attending Purdue University in Lafayette and her grades have been excellent every year. Her final exams for the degree are coming up in about eight weeks.

That's it. I guess at twenty-one there wouldn't be a great deal, but the lack of detail only whets my appetite for more.

"More." That word she used... It always asked for something I wanted to give.

The only thing that stops me losing my mind this week is adding to the piece I started the night she was here. It keeps evolving until I reach the point where I put it away with the fifty or so others I've written.

* * *

Driving to my agent's office is done with a great deal of agitation. On the one hand, Garrett has agreed to see me, so it's a promising start. On the other, the grim look on his face doesn't give me much confidence. The slight shake of his head tells me he suspects he's face to face with an asshole, and when both hands come up to stop me from saying anything, he speaks very seriously. "I've spoken to Bella at length."

I watch closely for body language, ready to move quickly if he goes for my throat.

"I'm still worried about why you had her in your apartment, Edward, but I guess you're off the hook."

Oh God, this is much more than I could have expected. The relief I feel, and must show, is overwhelming.

"But…" he adds with a sickly smile. "There are conditions."

"Okay." I sit down and get comfortable.

"You never go near her again."

"Of course," I agree convincingly, still thinking about this lengthy conversation he had with Bella.

"And along with your normal performances, you get your songs out there and test them properly."

Eyeing Alice, I know what is coming. He's been at me for years to try small venues and play my own stuff. Just the thought of it is still terrifying.

"Thirty-six, Edward. Thirty-six. You haven't even have tried."

Leaning on my elbows with my fingers rubbing my chin, I look at the ceiling and then at Alice for a lifeline. She is stoic. They've been talking during the week and ganging up on me.

"This is your friend speaking, not your agent."

"What if they hate them? It could ruin my career."

"That will not happen and, if you won't try it, I'm out for good."

I swivel back and forth on the chair, facing my biggest fear and thinking of the many reasons I've already given him for putting this off.

"Can I think about it?"

He lets out a breath and stands. "I'm going. I can't bear to see this happen. You have talent you're wasting."

Well I can't bear to see him walk out. "Okay, okay, sit down. I'll do it."

"Good," he says, finally smiling. "Hire some musicians. You've got two months to rehearse. I've booked you a spot at the 'Green Mill' and I want some original content."

"Two months?" Damn him. He must know he has me by the balls if he's already made the booking. "Does it have to be the 'Green Mill?' Are you nuts?"

"The fact that I can get you a spot there says something, doesn't it, Edward? I have faith in you."

"Jesus Christ."

The "Green Mill" is a cocktail lounge and jazz club, a Chicago icon since the early 1900's. It was once massive, taking up a whole block of Uptown, named after the "Moulin Rouge" or "Red Mill" of Paris.

One of Al Capone's men was once a part owner and the "Chicago Outfit" often frequented the place. Capone had his own favorite booth that gave him a clear view of the exits.

Filled with memorabilia from some of the great jazz musicians, it still looks like a speakeasy with its rounded booths and green candles that glow in glass containers on the tables. The whole idea of performing there is daunting.

When I arrive home, I'm still a mess and I do anything I can to avoid the studio and having to sift through my compositions, checking Alice's latest updates on the website, Twitter, Instagram and then Facebook to see any comments on my behalf.

That's when I see a PM from Baby Whisperer Girl.

It's just an emoticon, a little face blowing me a kiss, already two days old, but I remember what it felt like to kiss her for real. I know I have to ignore her and come to terms with the fact that I'll never find out what really happened or what she told Garrett.

Going into the studio, I start the process of selecting the music the public is going to hear. A couple of hours later, I've made some progress and I pour a coffee, but seeing the laptop reminds me that Bella may already know I've seen her message, and it's killing me. I set down the coffee and check.

There's another one waiting.

"_You were so deeply asleep when I left. I kissed you goodbye and told you I loved everything we did, but I don't know if you heard."_

I take in a breath and hold it. I like this. It continues _us_ without going into the drama and retains the feeling of intimacy. I'm not allowed to go near her again but this… this is completely anonymous… except for Alice who has access to everything in here. I create an account called Mister Lonesome Man, and PM her back, pasting her message in before typing my response.

"I thought I dreamed you whispering in my ear." Then I delete her messages from my Edward Masen profile and we are now totally private.

Wondering if she will respond, I feel the tingle of thrill before closing the laptop and heading back to the studio. The pieces I have will work with a small ensemble. Band, I have to get used to calling them a band, and these are possible tracks. If the response is good, we will record them and Garrett will do his stuff. If not, at least I tried.

When I emerge, starving and one step closer to my goal, there's a new message. "I did whisper in your ear."

The feeling of relaxation is real. Somehow, she can calm me from a computer, two hours away.

* * *

It all happens quickly and thankfully without any discord. I'd worked with Emmett McCarty before, a genius with any kind of percussive instrument. He recommends Jasper Whitlock, who plays both lead and bass guitar, ice cool. We find Carlisle Cullen, another session musician, who makes love to his saxophone.

We spend a night at the "Green Mill," understanding how everything works and how we will set up. The other three don't share any of my anxiety. For them, it's just another job.

They come to the apartment, drink beer, and improvise. We start most of the pieces with me on piano and them entering one by one. I fight when I don't agree and make changes when I like them. This isn't a high school band where four people have an equal say. I am the one paying and it is my vision driving everything. Luckily, they get it, and we all get along well.

Alice suddenly decides she needs to work from my place. At first, I think Garrett has her spying on me, and then I catch a look of lust between her and Jasper. I don't think they know I'm on to them but I enjoy the shift in her personality, this new friendly Alice who is alien to me. I've always kept her around because she's good at her job, not because I particularly like her.

Bella and I continue to send private messages and the conversation assumes its own rules without us ever mentioning them. We never ask questions or send back opinions, allowing us the freedom to say as much or as little as we want about ourselves.

More like status updates or diary entries, mine are sometimes long and full of the frustration of delayed planes and late sound checks. Other times, she might send a single word, often an emotion, just to convey how she is feeling.

A long message arrives where she's angry. She wants an explanation as to why they teach the importance of affection for young children and then prevent childcare professionals from showing any because of absurd litigation, saying someone should castrate the people who caused the world to have to flip upside down.

She's only venting, not asking for my humble opinion, and she's very young and idealistic, so I send a sad face and she sends one back.

One day, I'm frantically busy and send the word, "Lonesome," because that's how I feel in the midst of everything.

Each time I find a new message waiting, it buoys my spirits, knowing she hasn't forgotten me.

We keep each other company and gradually get used to the other's schedule, posting about upcoming dates and regular commitments. Bella has a lot of contact with her family while mine is mainly with business acquaintances.

She often has babysitting jobs, and this must account for the tiny bank balance. Since I have the details, it's tempting to drop money in there to make her more comfortable, but I know she might interpret that gesture badly.

I am busy rehearsing, travelling and performing. She is attending college and studying. We both have nerves about big events coming up in our lives in the next few weeks. Mine is our debut at the "Green Mill," and hers is passing her final exams.

Then late one night, I'm just about to send her a message when I notice she's online and she sends me a single word, _"Horny."_

The more I stare at the word, the more interesting it becomes. Is this an invitation to talk sex? At some point, the conversation is bound to fizzle out because I can't type with just my left hand.

In front of my eyes, more words appear. _"Free weekend coming up."_

She knows I am back on Wednesday and that I'm looking forward to having some down time.

_Come on Masen, think. Send something back._

Before I have a chance, there's another one, _"I'm ready for more..."_

_Dot, dot, dot. Well that just cleared up any confusion._

She cannot come here, and Lafayette is too small to hide us, but there is any number of possibilities for us to have a private weekend together.

I re-read our little conversation and send, "Check here tomorrow," adding a row of smiley icons. They match perfectly with the expression on my face.

Now I have some research to do.

An hour later, I give up trying to find a hassle-free way for her to fly to Chicago. There is a fantastic house available at Porter Beach on the southern shore of Lake Michigan, roughly an hour from Chicago and an hour and a half from Lafayette, so I book a limo to bring her to me. The house is overkill for what we need, but the view and the home theater are sensational, and the bedroom looks like it belongs in a Tuscan villa. The best part is its privacy.

No one will know and no one will interrupt.

I attach the confirmation for the limo booking to my PM, asking her for an address for pick up.

The next morning, there is a response, a picture of a girl sitting cross-legged in front of her laptop with her arms in the air. She looks a little like Bella, with long dark hair. The caption is, "YIPPEE" and her message says_, "This is me right now. I can't wait. Thank you so much."_

Feeling energized and pleased with myself, I float on air all day and the performance is one of my best, receiving several standing ovations.

Back at the hotel, she has sent me another image. It's a black and white close up of a pair of female lips, using her teeth on a male's ear. The lips are red, the only colored part of the picture. Her text accompanying the image is, _"Hungry."_

Fuck me. I know exactly how that would sound.

We spend Thursday and Friday rehearsing with the band and they agree on using the name "Mister Lonesome" instead of "The Edward Masen Quartet," which sends shivers down my spine.

"What's BW?" Jasper asks, holding the sheet music for the piece I started the night Bella was here. He's looking at the lyrics I've written.

Uneasily, I answer, "Don't worry about that one. It's new."

He starts playing it, repeating the melody until he has its feel, handing the sheet to Carlisle, and then Emmett joins in, improvising an accompaniment.

Carlisle reads the lyrics aloud.

"You were so deeply asleep,  
When I kissed you goodbye,  
I don't know if you heard,  
I whispered in your ear.

You thought you dreamed,  
But I did, I did whisper,  
I wasn't sure if you knew,  
That I loved us together."

"Who wrote this Edward?" Carlisle asks, very curious.

"I wanna fall asleep with that girl," Jasper adds.

Snatching it will only make this into a big deal when they have no control of what songs we use.

"Forget it." I stick my hand out to take it back. "It's still a mess."

"You don't want to do some more work on it? Are there any more lyrics?" Carlisle asks as he hands it over.

"No, forget it," I reply, placing it in a folder and putting it away.

"Who's the girl, Edward," Carlisle continues, not ready to give up.

I sigh, annoyed now. "She's no one, just a dream I had, a whisper."

"That's the start of a chorus." He smiles and the other two nod, agreeing with him.

Stretching, I say, "Let's leave it at that for now. I'm tired. I think I'll disappear for a few days. See you back here on Monday."

It makes it sound like a spur of the moment decision, giving no one an inkling that I have plans.

* * *

Sticking to her arrangements almost kills me. She was supposed to send a text as soon as she spotted McDonald's, get out of the limo and into my car. Instead, I see her walking into the restaurant and wonder if she mistakenly thinks I'm waiting inside, but I anxiously hold onto the plan that is supposed to prevent us being seen together in public.

Suddenly the car door opens and she leans in and asks, "Mister Lonesome?"

I blow out a relieved breath, not realizing how tightly wound I am. She gets in, jamming her backpack between her feet and staring at me.

"Are you all right, Edward?"

"Yeah, I just… Is this a bad idea?"

"This is a great idea," she answers, running her hand up my thigh. "Let's go."

I look her over in her jeans and t-shirt, more gorgeous than I remembered, and I now agree. When she makes no comment about the Porsche, we take off and I realize we have no restrictions. We can talk and ask questions and do anything we want, and I have to ask, "So, what actually happened?"

She was obviously expecting this. "Oh, they were all awake, waiting for me when I got back, thinking something terrible had happened because I wasn't answering my phone. It was awful."

"Did you say you were with me?"

"I didn't have a choice when the phone had to be at your place and we were leaving the next day, but I told them we just talked. I don't think Dad believed me."

The news that neither of us had admitted anything makes me calm down. "I told Garrett the same thing."

"Oh he knows I pursued you and admitted I had a crush on you, but I told him you were a gentleman."

"As opposed to the reality where I wasn't a gentleman."

"Yeah." The smile, cheeky and full of innuendo, is the one I've missed all these weeks. I take her hand and kiss it.

It's a short drive to the beach and she fills me in on the interrogation and guilt she went through, saying she was too upset to contact me until after she fixed the Garrett situation. She tells me the story travelled along the family grapevine and, while she understands everyone's concern, she's pissed because it's none of anyone's business what she does in private.

I hold back a laugh, and thank her for smoothing things over so quickly.

She says it was all her fault anyway. I say I'm a big boy and I should know better. She smirks and runs her hand over the fly of my jeans. I tell her to stop it or I'll crash the car, and then we're both laughing, leaving the fallout from our last meeting behind us.

The next question is where her parents think she is right now, and her answer surprises me.

"Indianapolis."

"Oh… with a friend?"

"No, just looking around."

"And they're good with that?"

"Sure."

Again, I have to tell myself not to anticipate this girl and how she works.

Once we're inside the house, I see her shoulders drop as she stands in the living room, staring at the view of the water. I walk up behind her and lightly hold her hips. She turns in my arms and kisses me softly, sliding her hands around my waist without pulling me closer. I hardly move, held in the spell of the kiss, hyper aware of my nose brushing her soft cheek, my chin moving along her jaw and her lashes dusting over my face.

"Where's the bedroom," she finally asks, licking her lips. When I take her up the hall with her bag, she stands in the doorway with her hand over her mouth. "Oh, Edward."

She's finally impressed, just as I was when I saw the picture on the internet.

"I need the bathroom," she says, taking the bag in with her, so I relax on the bed and look out at Lake Michigan. After a while, I'm starting to wonder what she is doing in there, when the door opens and she appears. "See what I bought for you?"

Automatically, I sit up to get a better view. My baby whisperer is a standout in a black see-through babydoll and nothing else, a fantasy coming toward me. It's loosely tied at the cleavage, and I wonder if she's put some thought into my specific preferences. Her lips are crimson and the color plays up her eyes.

This kind of thing doesn't happen to me. I'm spellbound and getting harder by the second.

"I found this great lingerie place." Turning, she offers me the back view as well.

As she comes closer, I adjust myself in front of her, wanting her to know the effect she's having on me.

She climbs on and asks, "You like?"

Touching the outfit, I find it's softer than it looks. "This is very very nice." Loving the feel of her tits through the sheer fabric, I play with the little tie. Then I run my hands over her naked ass and warn her, "You know you're my captive now. I'm not letting you out of here for the next two days."

"That's why I'm here." She smiles, and clutches my hair as I pull her closer.

"Horny and hungry, wasn't it?"

I dip my fingers in her pussy and she gasps in my ear. "Horny," she says in a breathy voice. "Hungry for you."

Jesus, _this girl_…

By Saturday afternoon, we've had sex so many ways, we need a break and she's thrilled when she sees the home theater. I like Tom Hanks and she likes Emma Thompson, so we watch "Saving Mister Banks," the true story of Walt Disney and his long quest to bring Mary Poppins to the screen. It's interesting to find out its background and I enjoy seeing them playing piano and working on the movie's songs.

When the credits roll, Bella is crying and I don't understand why. For me it had an uplifting ending. I pick her up and sit her in my lap, worried about why she's upset, asking her if the story struck some chord with her.

She puts her arm around my shoulders and frowns. "Don't worry about it, Edward. It doesn't mean anything. Didn't your mother ever cry in movies?"

It's kind of sad really when I have to think about my answer.

"I don't think I ever watched a full movie with my mother."

She kisses my cheek, and holds me.

While we cook dinner together, she asks me why I've never mentioned my parents before. When I admit that I hardly ever see them, she has trouble with my answer. I can only offer that my father didn't exactly approve of my becoming a professional musician.

I tell her my mother, Elizabeth, was often absent, physically or emotionally, except for when we were working on my piano lessons, and Bella hugs me again, saying she's sorry. She says it sounds like my mother was disconnected, probably depressed.

When I ask if she knows about depression, she says only a little, but that small children can become depressed and it's something they train them to watch out for.

She's astounded when she hears that my parents divorced and remarried a couple of years later, optimistically proposing that their love must have been stronger than their problems. It's something I've never considered, but I have to let her in on the truth, that they are both still unhappy.

"They should never have married in the first place." I've always firmly believed it.

"You're wrong," she says with her hand on my cheek. "Then we wouldn't have you."

I don't know what I feel when I look into those sincere blue eyes. Acceptance? Approval? I know it's a good feeling, and one I may have underestimated. I hope she feels it too when I kiss her.

After dinner, we walk on the beach as the sun is setting and I feel like I want to hold her hand. Then she does something annoying by splashing me with water and, when I tell her to stop, she does it again.

"Bella, it's fucking Lake Michigan, not the Caribbean!"

"Calm down." She starts to walk in and pouts, looking terribly cute. Then she splashes me once more, and I come after her, growling, ready to dump her right in if she keeps it up. Moving out of my way, she giggles and runs off up the beach, so I chase her, laughing when I can't catch up. By the time I reach our deck, I collapse into one of the sun lounges but I'm not exhausted, feeling invigorated in every way. She comes out with two glasses of red wine, asking if I'm still angry with her.

I shake my head and answer, "Perfect. You're perfect."

She smiles and touches my hair before she takes a sip and looks out at the horizon, as if she's deep in thought. I'd like to ask but I don't want to interfere, and the last time I questioned her emotions, she coaxed a lot of personal information out of me that didn't paint a very favorable picture of who I am. I don't want her to see me like that when she's so damn wonderful.

We go to bed together, but neither of us is horny tonight, so we talk. She fills me in on the Rose she knows, surprising me when she remembers that Rose and Garrett were always the first to arrive on Christmas Day, laden with well thought out presents for everyone. I can honestly say that they never mentioned this to me. From the sound of things, it would have taken months just to choose all the gifts.

Bella says she likes Kate a lot but she misses Rose and her big personality. She's seen Rose on stage several times and is in awe of her voice. Then she smirks and admits that she's seen me too, and will do so again if she gets the opportunity. I offer to get her tickets for the Chicago concerts in September, hoping I'll be able to see her again. She looks sad when she asks if I ever play in Indianapolis.

"Why Indianapolis?"

"I have a job there, starting in August."

"Are you excited? Were you going to tell me about this?"

"I don't know."

I look into her eyes and see a change there, the usual spark suddenly gone. Those three words are telling. We don't know what will happen and now she's moving another hour away. We may never see each other until our paths cross again, maybe at Garrett's third wedding, when she's in love with someone else and I can't dance with her. It doesn't matter because I can't dance with her anyway, not in public. I can't even go near her.

"Can I hold you?" she asks, and I open my arms.

She snuggles in with her face in my neck and her thigh over me, whispering, "I wish this never had to end."

All I can say is, "I know." Wishing I had her honesty, I would say I don't understand how I can feel like this when I hardly know her. She creeps into my soul whether I fight it or not, giving me things to think about, altering me without realizing. It's happening to me. I'm already amalgamating and it's nothing like I expected.

Her breathing changes and she sleeps while I lie there with the scent of her hair all around me.

The next morning, someone is teasing my ear with her teeth and using her sultriest voice. "We have one more day and you're wasting it being Mister Lonesome in here, so how about getting up? I've made breakfast."

Except for the last day comment, it's probably the nicest way I've ever been woken and I'm not about to give it up yet when her lips keep hovering around my ear. She smells heavenly too, like she's been in the shower. Mumbling as if I'm still half-asleep, I ask, "Is that my baby whisperer?"

"Yes, and your eggs are ready."

"Eggs? I love eggs!" I turn and surprise her with a quick kiss to her cheek. Then I jump up and pull on a pair of shorts, throwing my arms out sideways. "Ready."

When she laughs, I grab a t-shirt and charge past her toward the kitchen. I really do feel refreshed today and I don't want to waste it either. As I pull the shirt on, I can't see any breakfast on the table, so I put on an extravagant show of disappointment just for entertainment. I can smell the food.

"Sit down and I'll get it." She giggles, using oven mitts to bring the plate to me. "Careful, it's hot… like you." She kisses me before going back for her own, but I hold her wrist, and pull her back to have my own kiss.

"Thank you," I say as much for the breakfast as for making me feel so alive. I adore this girl and I'm going to enjoy the feeling while I can. With the future so uncertain, today may be all we ever have.

She breathes out with a little hum as if she's aroused again and I know what we're doing after breakfast. All of a sudden, I'm hungry _and_ horny.

The eggs are excellent, accompanied by sautéed mushrooms, shallots and thyme. I don't even need pepper because she's seasoned them perfectly.

When I come out of the shower, she's lying naked on the bed with her knee moving out and then in, focusing my eyes on her pussy. I drop the towel and join her. Maybe it's because it's our last day, but she's more passionate. Kissing her is incredible and the way we move and breathe is highly erotic.

I need every inch of her and, although I don't go down on women usually, my dick is throbbing at the sight of her finally becoming vocal when I draw it out. I just hope my hair grows back.

She drags me up and kisses me, moaning over the smell of her pussy on my face, and wraps her legs tightly around my hips. When I'm inside her before I realize I've forgotten a condom, I almost don't care and, as soon as I rectify the situation, it's like I can't stop. No matter how hard she clenches me or how many times I feel it, I won't let go and, when I do, I have to start over. How can I keep fucking her like this and want more?

Eventually, she's like a rag doll again and I let her sleep, drinking in the way she looks and how she breathes. Wishing it was yesterday again, I stare at her until 2:00. The limo is arriving at McDonald's at 3:30 and she will want to have a shower before she goes.

With a heavy heart, I wake her and tell her it's time.

As she packs her bag, we don't say a word and, until the moment we have to leave, we haven't said a full sentence. We can't make any promises so we say it all with a final kiss. Even the trip to McDonald's is subdued, until I see a tear on her cheek.

"Bella."

"Please don't speak to me. I'm just hanging on. I'll message you."

I know what she means. I'm terrified to open the floodgates and of what will come pouring out of my mouth. When I pull into the parking lot, the limo is already waiting. She squeezes my hand and then does what we said we wouldn't do. Leaning over, she presses her cheek to mine and whispers, "Thank you," before getting out and closing the door.

After watching the driver help her in, I stay until I can't tell which car they are in the distance, desperate because I should have driven her home, never imagining that I could feel this empty when she'd gone.

Packing up and leaving the beach house is mind numbing, the drive back into Chicago bleak. Even though nothing else seems to matter, I know I have to stop obsessing over her tonight because it's back to business in the morning.

As soon as I drop my bag, I find the folder with the song and start to write, to record the weekend in verse. Before I know it, I've added a chorus and another two verses.

"You were so deeply asleep,  
When I kissed you goodbye,  
I don't know if you heard,  
I whispered in your ear.

You thought you dreamed,  
But I did, I did whisper,  
I wasn't sure if you knew,  
That I loved us together.

She's no one, just a dream I had, a whisper,  
There may never be another day to hold her,  
Enough words to show her,  
She's my secret, my guilt, my gift.

I want to challenge you,  
Make you think,  
Maybe it's not enough,  
Cause you're disconnected.

Just hanging on by a tear,  
So please don't speak to me,  
I'll whisper what you need,  
After I'm gone."

I read it a few times and decide there's nothing there about the girl I know, the one who did challenge me and change me forever, the one I should give up now.

* * *

There are a lot of messages between Bella and I that first week back. The first one says she could hardly walk on Monday and I apologize, not exactly surprised.

She tells me she is sorry for appearing so secretive over the weekend and she expands on the new job at a day care center. She's going back to the place she spent a full semester at earlier this year as part of her degree. It's only a contract, filling in for someone's maternity leave, and she doesn't know where she'll be after Christmas.

I don't tell Bella the effect she had on me, or how I wanted to chase the limo down the highway just to have her with me for a few more hours. With Alice and Jasper now openly displaying affection, it's emotional torture to keep thinking about it. This is easier.

With only one more series of concerts in Boston to go, we start spending long days in the studio, tightening up the songs for the gig. Garrett drops in and he's so impressed that he's ready to start booking more dates.

I ask him to slow down.

Most nights I check my laptop before going to bed and I always feel a gasp of excitement when there's a message from her, but she's cramming and exhausted like me. Our messages are less frequent, repetitive and boring, because we're both focused elsewhere. It starts to become small talk for the sake of it because I won't tell her what's really in my heart, but I can't make the break away from her either.

This is probably what marriage to me would be like.

As the date approaches, I ask her if she has time to come up for the gig, but she has an exam the following day. I knew that Garrett had offered the whole family tickets, the only reason I even mentioned it. At least Rose is coming.

Once we have the name, "Mister Lonesome" printed on the face of the drum; it's official and I feel like we've grown into it.

Our slot at the "Green Mill" is 9:00 pm until 1:00 am on Friday night. We get there at 7:00 and have a couple of drinks, watching the previous act. Carlisle has brought Esme, his wife of ten years, and they are very affectionate to each other. Her mother is minding their two kids for the whole weekend.

I'm so nervous, I feel like everyone is staring at me. I've played some big venues on my own and I've been comfortable, playful even, but tonight it's not me playing Chopin or Bach. This is my own creative talent on the line and I feel like I want to throw up.

Alice tells me if we're even half as good as our rehearsals, then we're already a success. I think that might be the nicest thing she's ever said to me.

Not long after 8:00, we set up and I find that the piano is tuned beautifully, but somewhat old. I request the lights to go up some more because the neon "Green Mill" sign is making me anxious. When I get back, performing in jeans doesn't feel right. Some of the patrons are laughing too loudly at someone's joke and the general noise of the crowd is off-putting.

Another whiskey would be good right now.

Garrett and Kate arrive and chat to us before taking their seats with Alice and Esme, and he orders champagne. Rose comes in, lighting up the place like she does everywhere she goes, wearing a stunning maxi dress that shows off the rack. I wonder if she's gone to some trouble to show Garrett she's still got it, but what happens is she takes one look at Emmett and gives him a dirty smile. I see him check her out as well, tilting his head, and it's more than an instant attraction thing.

Garrett's brother and one of the older nephews arrive. After speaking to him, they hang back at the bar to watch. I sigh, wishing Bella had come with them. She actually called me this afternoon to wish me good luck and, for a while after, I was calm. Now that I notice just how many people are in here, I'm nervous again.

Standing to face the Roman goddess sculpture that occupies the corner behind the band, I cross my arms over my back to stretch and someone wolf whistles loudly from the crowd. When my mouth drops, I look at Emmett who is laughing and twirling his drumsticks.

It's just what I need to take my mind off my nerves and I start to laugh as well, sitting down when I get our signal from the stage manager. A couple of rolls of my neck and some finger flicks, and I'm ready.

_Breathe. You know these pieces back to front._

Carlisle nods at me, and we start. We've chosen Clifford Brown's "Baby" because it was the first piece we ever played where we felt like a band. It's a sax classic and very lively. We just have to prove to the audience that we can play with this one. It's Jasper who has to step up, playing both bass and electric, and it gets good applause at the end.

The next is an original and I take a deep breath. Playing the introduction, my fingers settle into the keys and, once Emmett joins me; his sweet touch with the cymbals makes me call out to applaud his skill. Jasper and Carlisle enter perfectly and now I know why Garrett said I had to do this. There's just nothing like it being your own.

If there's chatter going on in the audience, I'm not aware of it and, when we finish, there's a lot of clapping and whistling. Certainly, our table of friends are on their feet.

Emmett counts us immediately into our next original number and people even start dancing. This is so good that I'm relaxing and enjoying myself now, improvising as I use the energy from the crowd.

Our next piece is "Darn That Dream" by Stan Getz and it's heavy on piano. I'm glad I had a few numbers to ease me in before I had to perform it, but we all love its classic jazz sound.

Another cover, called "This Night" from the Benny Golson Quintet, is circa 1958. It's fun and will showcase the other three more than me. The sax is strong and the crowd, being jazz devotees, should know it.

I've taken a few liberties with our next original number. Based on the kind of smooth swish, base, sax and trumpet pieces we all grew into jazz with, I am playing the trumpet section on piano and expanding it as an accompaniment. It comes out very sexy and gets our loudest applause so far.

Then we play a piece that Jasper encouraged me to finish for tonight, and I'm glad he did because people are slow dancing to it. It's something that is melancholy for me but full of soul for everyone else.

For our last number of the set, we choose Les McCann's "Jubilation" because Carlisle can sit this one out, have a longer break, and give us some feedback. It's a great choice because it's fast and the audience will want more when it's over. We can't help dancing in our seats as we play. It's so cool.

The audience erupts and Carlisle comes on stage to congratulate us. It's the moment I feel the most complete I've ever felt as a performer. When I reach their table, I look at my friend, Garrett, who gave me the impetus and confidence to do this. He's grinning from ear to ear and he rubs my back.

They all tell us we were wonderful as a tray of drinks arrives.

Emmett sits down next to Rose, puts his arm across the back of her chair, and stares up at me as if he has something on his mind.

He takes a long pull on his beer and asks me, "You know that Billy Holliday number we rehearsed?"

"I Must Have That Man?"

He nods and says, "Rose said she'd sing it with us tonight if you want to add it to the set."

I look at my cousin in amazement. "Do you know it?"

"Yes." She's moving her arm under the table near Emmett, looking smug.

"The more the merrier, I guess." I know I've been railroaded, but what the hell. Nothing can annoy me right now.

"That was so good." Christ, I'd know that voice anywhere. I turn to see Bella, beaming and taking a glass of champagne, and I hold my breath while I work out how to react in front of the others.

"Enjoy the show so far?" It seems like an impersonal question, although she's already answered it.

"She's your biggest fan, aren't you Bella?" Garrett puts his arm around his niece.

"Uncle Garrett!" She worms her way out of his embrace.

"I'm sure he already knows, don't you Edward?" Is he testing me? How many drinks has he had?

Shaking my head is the only thing I'm capable of. Having Bella and Garrett together in front of me is overwhelming.

"You two had an evening together, didn't you?"

He _is_ drunk, and he's being an asshole, fishing for an answer he's already received, but Bella gets in first.

"I thought his apartment was amazing. Up on the roof and seeing the skyscrapers was… inspirational. No wonder his music is so incredible." It's unnerving how she's so good at this. Her eye contact with me doesn't match her words.

"Well thank you Bella." She makes it so easy to respond casually, even though I'm remembering vivid details of her on my rooftop terrace.

"Gentlemen, you're on," The stage manager reminds us.

Bella disappears into the crowd and I don't see her at all during the set but the evening is going so well that I wonder if these three talented musicians would consider making this a more permanent thing.

We agreed that the Billy Holiday number would be the last of the set, so I feed Rose's ego by introducing her, only needing to say her name as she comes on stage with a hand-held mike, standing almost in front of Emmett.

God, can she sing. She occupies the song as if it was written for her, moving back and forth slowly as if we've rehearsed her stage presence. When Carlisle's sax begins to dominate, she closes her eyes and sways.

Just watching her and feeling what she brings, I look at the audience and everyone is captivated, except for a certain brunette who's looking at me. When I smile at her, she smiles back as if she's proud of me. I don't know what happened with the exam, but I'm glad she's here.

As the song finishes, I'm still looking at Bella when the intense applause rouses me.

"Just one more," Rose says to me as I start to stretch. What the hell? She better not think she's taking over, because this is a lousy spot to start arguing when everyone is still clapping.

Then Jasper starts to play a melody I know too well and I glance at Bella who's still staring at me. She's not reacting, so I don't think she's in on this and, when the sax joins in, I barely have time to flick my eyes around the others before I have to start.

"You were so deeply asleep, when I kissed you goodbye…"

The song does need a female voice since most of the lyrics are based on Bella's words, but the chorus should be mine. I can't look at Bella because she is the only one who will know and, when the chorus starts, I join Rose, singing a harmony. She looks over and we connect as we sing together, something we haven't done for many years.

When I do look at Bella, she's wiping her eyes and I wonder how she feels about this. Rose and I sing the final chorus and smile at each other as the audience erupts. As we leave the stage, Rose puts her arm around me and kisses my cheek, saying we have to record the song.

"Settle down," I tell her, still reeling.

"So, good surprise?" Carlisle asks as he hands me a whiskey. Esme joins him and hugs him tight. I nod my head, struggling with an answer. The others all seem to have something to contribute to the explanation. At Garrett's suggestion, they practiced while I was away performing and, when Rose dropped in one day, she and Emmett hit it off. It was Carlisle's idea to perform the song, saying he liked it right from the start.

Bella is quiet, listening to everything intently, just as I am.

"Is she a real girl?" Esme enquires, not knowing she's putting me on the spot.

"Yeah," I answer, without even glancing at Bella.

"A girlfriend? I don't think so," Alice adds, cracking up. She's had a little too much champagne as well. "Who'd have him?"

"I'd have him." We all turn to Bella who's looking directly at me.

"Bella?" Garrett chastises her, trying to rein her in.

"I think he's amazing." There's no doubt in her eyes that she means it.

"Stop it Bella."

Just as this is getting interesting, we get the call to go back on stage.

She runs her hand from my shoulder to my neck. "Maybe it would good for his career to have a young girlfriend," and then she leaves, heading for the back of the room.

"I'm sorry, Edward. She's very headstrong," Garrett apologizes, charging off after her.

_Yeah, and she's good at manipulating, so watch out._

During the set, Bella and Garrett are arguing at the bar. I want to scream at him to leave her alone, or at least take their fight elsewhere, because it's effecting my concentration. Kate fetches him back to his seat but he starts up with her again as we're finishing.

Jasper gets in before me, leaving the stage and storming up to them. "Did you have to do that while we were playing?" I follow, never having seen his angry side before.

"Bella has a little crush on Edward," I hear Garrett offer, as if it somehow excuses his behavior, and she is fuming. "He's too old for you," he adds, and starts to walk away as if he's had the final say.

"Hey, your father is more than ten years older than your mother."

He swings around, defiantly. "That's different. His first wife died."

"Well my dad is seven years older than Mom, and do we want to discuss how come she had me when she was twenty-one? Kate is five years younger than you, or is it six? So what is the correct number? Which is the one that adds up for you?"

Rose steps in between them, holding her hands up in a cease-fire gesture, but they both glare at her, ready to continue.

"Brad and Angelina are eleven years apart. JFK and Jackie were twelve years. Elvis and Priscilla ten. Humphrey Bogart was twenty-five years older than Lauren Bacall. JayZ and Beyoncé have a twelve-year difference. Who else? George Clooney just got married finally and his wife is 17 years younger. It means nothing. They're all just more numbers."

"You've been researching this little speech, Isabella." He looks at her smugly, foolishly believing he is about to win the argument.

"Maybe I have," she seethes. "But you knew I had a teenage crush on him when you gave me all those tickets to his shows. How many times did you come to our house and talk about nothing else but Edward's standing ovations and sellout concerts. You _showed_ me photos of him in nothing but boxers!"

When I look at Rose, she shrugs in confirmation. I shake my head, but I can't miss a second of this.

"Why wouldn't I show him off? I'm his agent and I'm proud of him."

"So let me get this straight, Uncle Garrett. The man you've represented for the last ten years, the one you're so proud of, the one you always encourage all the family to come and see perform, is not… actually good enough for your family."

Her eyes narrow as if she's ready for him, diabolically brilliant. God help me if I ever cross her.

"I'm not saying that at all, and you know it. He's just too old for you."

She looks down and nods, letting out a big sigh of defeat, but no one notices the way her eyes flash at me before she speaks again.

"Well would it be okay if I ask Edward to take me on one date, just to get him out of my system?" She looks at me sweetly, and then back at Garrett. "You know I've nearly finished my exams and I'm moving away in a couple of weeks, so it's not like we'd ever meet again."

Garrett wavers with his response and his brother intervenes. "Come on Bella, we have to leave."

I can't stand it any longer. "For Christ sake, Garrett! Of course I'll take you on a date, Bella. It would be my pleasure."

When Garrett shrugs, she squeals, throwing her arms around my neck, and whispers in my ear, "Mmm, definitely."

Oh my God, _this girl_…


	2. Chapter 2

**Many thanks to the wonderful girls who are helping me with this story - my new friend and pre-reader NicficWhisperer, known to me as "less is more Nic," who is keeping me on track; AudiR8, Edwards Beachlover and VampyreGirl86 who suggest and correct. Then Hadley Hemingway waves her magic star-shaped wand over everything. I now refer to her as "delicately ruthless."**

**Special thanks to all those reading, following and leaving such lovely reviews. You make me smile and keep writing.**

**Disclaimer**: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

_**Edward**_

The way Bella handled Garrett was nothing short of dazzling. It was appropriate that we were in a club once run by gangsters because Garrett looked like he had been hit with so many bullets that he'd never recover. Still catching up, he didn't dare say a word to me with the underwear photos hanging in the air like the smoke from Bella's gun.

In spectacular fashion, she maneuvered a compliance out of him, a sort of reluctant consent for us to communicate openly.

We start with a couple of phone calls, but soon fall back into messaging. With our physical isolation, it has become our way of being intimate.

She writes that she cries when she thinks about the song I wrote for her, flooding the text with hearts. She talks about her fantasy where I arrive out front in my car to take her out, and she asks if I will pick her up from her parents' home for our date. Knowing what it was like when she fulfilled a fantasy of mine, I agree immediately because she deserves a reward.

We only have a small window of opportunity. The woman she's replacing is having health issues with her pregnancy, so as soon as Bella finishes her exams, she starts packing her things, preparing in case they call her to start early. With graduation approaching fast, we need to set the date.

Her parents are taking her to Indianapolis this weekend to help her look for somewhere to live. Then I have a whole week of rehearsals and performances at the Lincoln Center in New York, so the only certain free night is the Friday before graduation.

I'm not concerned about our date at all because she tells me her parents know this is her idea and they haven't been negative about it, especially since her dad received the background check he had done on me. I'm grinning big time when I hear that gem, and I don't say a single thing.

Anyway, as far as they know, we've had one late night of conversation at my place and another at Garrett's invitation to see our band in Chicago.

Garrett is the one with the problem, probably based less on our age difference than on his knowledge of my past dealings with women. Bella wants him to stop interfering, so we keep him out of the loop. The decision backfires when he calls me, casually stating that he's booked another gig at the "Green Mill" for that same Friday night without consulting me first. I'm angry until he says they requested we return, and I agree that we couldn't refuse.

Bella is disappointed, but she asks me to come to her graduation on the Saturday instead, excitedly telling me they have to assemble at eight for a procession through the college grounds that will lead to the ceremony. I won't get home from the gig until two and then I will have to be up by five to drive down in time, but I tell her I'll do my best. I really do want to see her and fulfill her fantasy somehow.

She says everyone is getting together that evening and I ask if it's going to be like what we did in New York after the Juilliard ceremony, having dinner and getting trashed. She says there _will_ be dinner but she has better ideas for after. I have a few myself.

"Do you need me to book you a hotel, Edward?" Alice asks when I tell her I have no idea where I'm staying because I've left all the arrangements to Bella. "You don't want to end up on somebody's couch."

"True. Just get me something I can cancel."

The following day, she calls and tells me there isn't a free room in town.

"_Are you sure about going down there, Edward?"_

"Why do you ask that?"

"_I don't understand why you are going at all. From what Garrett said, she's a superfan with photos of you on the walls of her bedroom." _

"You were there, Alice. I agreed to take her on a date. She lives in Lafayette, so why wouldn't I go to her?"

She sighs loud enough for me to hear, and I pinch the bridge of my nose, preparing for the piece of wisdom she's about to impart.

"_Look, we're the ones who carefully manage the way the public sees you, and you could be walking into a situation with a whole lot of drunken twenty-one year olds. You hardly know this girl and there will be pictures of this plastered all over the web. Have you really thought this through?"_

I can't believe she's so serious, so I tell her I'll think about it. Her comments plant a seed of doubt in my mind, and I _do_ think about it, but my brain is a mess of indecision. With everyone micromanaging me and pulling from a dozen directions, I don't have a second to myself. A night with Bella seems like the most appealing thing in the world, but it's one more thing I barely have time for. This is exactly why I don't encourage relationships. I don't want to let her down.

After long days rehearsing with the band and Rose joining us to sing the Sarah Vaughan classic, "It's Crazy," I'm already exhausted when I fly to New York. The stress of the gig on Friday is getting to me. I'm worried we haven't polished the two new pieces to my satisfaction and that we're going to sink this time.

By Tuesday night, I've endured two days of frustrating imperfections throughout the orchestra I'm performing with, so I call Bella, just to hear her soothing voice. She's bursting to tell me she found out she's getting a cord. When I ask her what it means, she says they hand them out to those who pass with distinction. Apparently, they don't receive their official grades until the Wednesday after graduation.

I congratulate her, never doubting her results would be excellent, then we move onto the details for Saturday.

"So where are we staying?" I ask, knowing if this is settled, then it's one less thing I have to worry about.

"_Uh… well, I'm not __a__ hundred percent sure yet, but don't worry."_

"You _do_ know all the hotels are booked up."

"_It will be okay, Edward. I'm still working on it."_

Trying not to sound frustrated, I calmly state, "Bella, I have to fly back to Chicago, rehearse, play the gig, grab a couple of hours of shut-eye and then drive down there. I can't sleep on a stranger's couch."

I hear the hesitation before she speaks._ "Oh… I didn't realize it was so tight. We can do this some other time, Edward."_

It sounds like she's giving me a way out, and I'm not sure why, so I test her intention. "Maybe another weekend when we have more time would be better."

"_Yeah, probably." _The sound of a tiny laugh doesn't match the tone of her words.

Feeling crushed, I say, "I'm sorry, Bella. I promise I will make it up to you."

"_Sure. I'll be busy with my college friends anyway."_

"Are you really sure?"

"_Of course, another weekend will be much better."_

I guess it _is_ all too hard and the uncertainty of a bed for the evening makes the decision that much easier, so I hang up with a sense of relief.

It's just that I now feel empty inside.

* * *

Bella sends me a picture of herself in her gown and cap with its little tassel, colored blue for her major. She includes a link to the live stream for the event, saying the schedule shows that the College of Education ceremony will start around eleven, but that Swan will obviously be towards the end. I like this, feeling included without having to rush down there with virtually no sleep.

The whole week in New York is mediocre and I sense the audience applauding only because they feel obliged. This orchestra has not been prepared properly and I find the mistakes they make grating. I don't make a fuss, though. It's the conductor who has to deal with the problems and I'm sure it hasn't been pretty behind rehearsal doors.

I'm relieved to be back in my apartment on Friday. The band is already practicing and I know this is where I'm supposed to be. Rose is enunciating every syllable like a jazz pro, giving the song a fun edge, and she sounds great, confident and happy.

"Hey, welcome home!" Jasper calls to me, a smile taking over his face.

"Thanks! You guys sound fantastic."

Carlisle also looks pleased to see me. "Settle in, then come and join us when you're ready. How was it?"

"Ugh. Average. Embarrassing, really."

Grabbing a coffee, I come back in, set it down, stick my arms out and announce, "Ready." Suddenly, I feel a knot in my chest, remembering the last time I did this exact same thing. It reminds me for the fiftieth time this week that Bella and I no longer have plans to see each other, and her world is about to change. I feel like she's going to fly away.

Rose must catch my poignant moment because she asks if I'm okay, so I smile and nod at her as if nothing is wrong, and they lead me into the pieces they think we need to rehearse.

My mood soon picks up when I see what they've done with "It's Crazy," using Rose for vocals and in place of an instrument. It doesn't feel like she's taking over the song and it's a great use of her voice when she can hit some astonishing high notes.

She will also sing "I Must Have That Man" again and the song they've now asked me to consider naming "Whisper." As we rehearse it, I see how they've worked in changes without impacting the piano section, and it sounds fresh, giving me some ideas of my own.

The crowd at the "Green Mill" is larger tonight, more vibrant and inclined to dance. Some of them I recognize from the first time we played here, but there's no sweet brunette with eyes only for me this time. I know it's pointless looking for Bella among the faces when she has her big day tomorrow, but it's hard not to. I miss her when we're singing the chorus to her song, knowing I'm living the lyrics again.

Garrett arrives during the second set and commends us on the work we've done in developing a unique sound. I don't think any of us even realize we have one yet.

Our last song of the evening is the Sarah Vaughan number and Rose is truly incredible. Each time she sings the lyrics, "I'm in love," her face opens up in a huge smile. When the applause finally fades, we leave the stage for a quick drink before we have to pack up.

"Edward?" I turn and gasp at the dark-haired woman hovering behind me, disappointed it's not Bella. "May I have an autograph, please?"

Standing out of respect for a fan, I smile when she hands me a marker, asking me to sign her shirt. Fumbling, I'm not sure where she means, and she laughs, pointing to her shoulder.

As I bend down to write, her hand encloses my upper arm and moves up and down. After a slow exhale, she leans in close and asks, "What are you doing now?" My head snaps up because it's not the voice I want in my ear or in my head. As my eyes meet hers, I see them flash as she licks her bottom lip. "Do you want to do me?"

Yes, she is beautiful and should be tempting, reminiscent of the girl I miss. It was six weeks ago when Bella and I were at the beach house, and many months since I've had another woman, but I'm not the slightest bit interested.

"I can't. I have to be somewhere."

She frowns as if she made a mistake, thought I was someone else, or had never been turned down before. Swinging her hips defiantly, she walks away without looking back, and I sit down to face Rose's concerned stare.

"Who was that, Edward?"

"No one."

Rose is not only fierce, but fiercely protective of me, and she studies my face before she pats my leg and smiles. With five of us to help pack and carry the drums, we're out of the "Green Mill" in one trip.

When my head finally hits the pillow, I'm more tired than I can ever remember, but my brain won't slow down. I check my phone is charging, and that the volume is turned up high, worried I am going to sleep in and miss Bella's procession. Getting up again, I test that my TV will play the live feed and read the words announcing the stream will start at 8:45 a.m.

The last thing I remember is checking my phone at three o'clock. The next thing I know, the alarm is going off and I have just enough time for a quick shower before the show starts. The graduating students are already in place, a sea of black gowns dotted with various colors, starting to move as one. There's a whole block with blue tassels, but I can't make her out, and a nervous energy starts building, trying to tell me something.

It's the same desperate feeling I had when I watched her leave in the limo and I know I've made a mistake. I can't take back the words I said when I allowed her to believe it was too hard to come today, but I can still get down there in time for the ceremony. Who cares where I stay tonight when she's the only thing that's important right now?

Stuffing clothes in an overnight bag, I dress in a suit and blue tie in honor of her degree and her intoxicating eyes.

The campus is massive and I seem to be going in circles until I find a guard who directs me to the Northwestern Avenue Parking Garage, miles from where I currently am. When I reach it, the full sign greets me, offering alternate parking at Wood Street, which is much further away. The heat is searing when I open the car door and I'm sweating as I hurry on foot in the heat.

When I finally arrive at the Elliott Hall of Music, I need a minute to catch my breath. It gives me a chance to read the sign on the door that says, "INVITATION ONLY. PLEASE ENTER QUIETLY (CELL PHONE OFF) WITH TICKET READY FOR INSPECTION."

Well, there won't be a ticket for me when I said I wouldn't be here. Still, I've come this far and I'm not giving up yet, so I open the door and beckon the woman standing inside to come out. When I explain that I've come from Chicago and lie that they have my ticket inside, she apologizes, saying there's nothing she can do unless I have my seat number. Then I ask if I can stand at the back and she explains that due to fire regulations, they have a strict seating only rule.

Devastated, I look up at the cloudless sky and wonder how I ever let this happen. It's _this girl_ and what she does to me.

Knowing she won't have her cell on, I decide to call her house on the off chance that there's someone there who can tell me what her plans for the day are. Luckily, there is only one Charles Swan listed and a friendly female voice answers who turns out to be Garrett's mother. As I'm explaining what happened, she interrupts and tells me to come right over and watch it on TV with her.

Ten minutes later, I'm at Bella's front door, and her grandmother ushers me inside. Seeing her familiar face instantly makes me feel comfortable. She's probably the family member I spent the most time with when Garrett married Rose. I remember liking her instantly when she took me aside at the wedding to point out who was who. I also remember it took forever.

"They're up to the P's, so it won't be too long now. Did you rent a car?"

"No, why?"

Handing me a glass of ice water, she answers, "Bella told us you had car trouble and wouldn't be able to make it today."

_Do not anticipate this girl or how she works. You will fall flat on your face every time._

"Oh, the mechanic found it was only a faulty cable."

"Well, that car of yours still sounds a bit rough. My hearing's not what is was, but I think I heard you all the way from the river."

I laugh when I see the crinkles around her eyes and realize she's having a joke with me.

"Bella is going to be pleasantly surprised, Edward. They said she looked quite glum when she left here this morning."

I feel the energy drain out of me when it looks like I may have ruined her day, but she should have told me if this meant something to her.

"The S's are starting."

"You didn't want to go to the ceremony?" I ask, looking around the home. It's not a luxurious place, but it's comfortable and the television is a good size.

"No, it's too hot for me out there. Speaking of hot, do you have another shirt with you?"

I look down at the sweat stains under my arms and shake my head - another miscalculation.

"Well, after we watch Bella, I'll get you some of my son-in-law's clothes. You have a cool shower and I'll wash the shirt for you. It will dry out there in five minutes."

"I can go out and buy another one." I'm not sure what my expression conveys, but the idea of me wearing Charles Swan's clothes does not compute, even though the idea of the cool shower does.

"Don't be ridiculous. It will take me just a few minutes, and you can help me with the lunch. You do cook, don't you?" she asks, cheekily baiting me.

It's an interesting question. "A little."

"Disgraceful," she says with a hint of a joke, and then she focuses on the television. "The problem with having a name like Swan is that there are too many Saints before you. This could take forever, Edward. I was an Anderson before I became a Baker, so I never had to wait for anything."

I enjoy the animated way she speaks. She's naturally happy and original, just like her granddaughter.

"Do you live here… Mrs. Baker?" I feel bad that I don't know much about her.

"Edward, you can call me Marie, and no, I have a very nice place of my own at Brookdale."

I'm not sure what that is and I don't want to pry, but she continues, glancing at the television occasionally.

"They call it 'independent living.' We've traded the family home for an apartment and a more communal lifestyle, and when we need a little assistance with Marcus, it's there for us. We don't want to burden our kids in our old age. Oh heavens, 'Sorell', will they ever get through this letter? I am very glad I did not go."

"Marcus is not coming today?"

"He was, but he's not having one of his better days… he's seventy-six now and the heat… I struggle when it's like this and I'm sixty-three."

I ponder this for a moment before asking, "Has… has the age gap been… difficult for you?"

She takes her eyes off the television and looks at me, sizing me up. "No. I love him as much today as I did when I married him. He's given me a wonderful life."

Her gentle expression makes me smile. "You're very lucky to have found someone to love like that. My parents divorced and then remarried again. It's no better the second time around either."

"Yes, I know. That must have been hard on you, but don't let people tell you that you will automatically follow their mistake. You need to find someone who challenges you here." She touches my temple. "And softens you here," she says with the kindest expression and her palm on my chest.

We hear them announce, "Stuart" and both turn to the television as the applause dies down. She has to be close now. "Swan." Marie clasps her hands together and squeals. I can't believe I'm seeing this happening in their living room. We watch Bella stride over confidently, receive her certificate and shake the man's hand with a beaming smile on her face. He smiles at her proudly, inspecting her cord, and they have a few quiet words as she nods her head. He's even clapping when she walks away as if she's a favorite of his.

I'm still grinning when I notice Marie watching me closely and smirking. "Why don't you surprise Bella tonight, and just arrive to pick her up."

"What time will she be here?"

She frowns at me before she speaks. "Renee and Charlie should arrive around one, but Bella won't be back until she needs to get ready. Now we should deal with that shirt."

"Okay, I do have some other clothes with me. I'll grab my bag."

Coming out after my cool shower, I feel refreshed in my shorts, t-shirt and bare feet, and the ceiling fan is wonderful on my wet hair. Marie's "cooking" involves making a large tray of sandwiches from cold cuts, cheese and salad, so I'm perfectly able to help, and I enjoy her easygoing company, accepting a couple of sandwiches for myself. She trains me in the art of making her fruit punch and I down a glass, complimenting her and saying I can definitely taste the mango juice. It's delicious.

Once we're finished, I'm directed to collect the shirt from outside and find it completely dry. She irons it for me and tells me to skedaddle until she calls me to come back for Bella. Picking up her phone, she doesn't need glasses when she asks me for my number and then sends me a text that says, "Hello, Edward." I'm shaking my head as I save her as "Marie."

_This family and their interesting women…_

Dressed again in my suit pants and freshly laundered shirt, I ask, "Where should I go?"

"You don't have a hotel room?"

When I tell her the whole town is booked up, she offers a few places where I can escape the heat, picking up her phone to show me the location of the library and the mall, both named Tippecanoe after the local county, and both air-conditioned.

I choose the mall because I could use some new clothes for performing with the band. A store called "Buckle" looks promising, and the young sales assistant is more than happy to help when I say I'm not a "skinny jeans" kind of guy. After trying on a few different brands, I find I like the BKE straight legs, and she helps me find a couple of belts and some dress shoes that look good with the jeans. I know I can't go any further without Alice's input or I'll never hear the end of it.

Passing a florist, I purchase a bouquet as a sort of apology gift, intrigued as to why Bella only told them today that I wasn't coming to the graduation. Once again, she has me fascinated.

Drawn in to the strong aroma of coffee at J.L. Hufford, an iced coffee and a relaxing read of the paper is just what I need. As I'm waiting, I spot a little Nespresso coffee maker that I can't resist for Bella's new place in Indianapolis, wherever it will be. She hasn't mentioned yet when she's starting her new job and all I know is it could be any day.

Looking up occasionally, I feel very comfortable, surrounded by my shopping bags and the fragrant flowers, and no one seems to mind me staying here.

The call comes at four, when Marie tells me that Bella is in the shower, needing to leave by five, and that Renee is excited about the idea of the surprise, so they will stall her if I'm late. I take my shopping bags to the car and decide I have time to go back in to check my appearance, navigating the signs to the restrooms with my toothbrush and toothpaste in hand.

When I see the state of my hair, I think about trying to tame it but know that to fight without product is futile. Back at the car, I manage a couple of spots of cologne and maneuver the blue tie into a classic Windsor knot via the side window of the car, breaking into laughter because I've become a homeless person, getting ready at the Tippecanoe Mall.

It's a quarter to five when I pull up out front and I give the engine a rev to announce my arrival. If I'm going to do this, I'm doing it properly. From the cool of my car, I watch the house and see the curtains move in one of the rooms on the top level. Then I see her at a window with her hand over her mouth before she disappears, and I can't help the smirk on my face.

I turn the car off and get out, taking my time to remove the jacket hanging on the back of the seat and putting it on. I hope that we are going somewhere with air-conditioning because it's still extremely hot. After running my hands through my hair, I lean in to retrieve the flowers.

Crossing the road, I start up the path and hear loud music coming from an approaching car. As I reach the door and knock, the car pulls up out front and I catch the sound of commotion, making me look around. There is the boy from one of the photos with Bella, Jacob Black, along with two girls and another boy.

Bella's father opens the door and glares at the other car. Then, without any expression, he asks me to come in. Bella's mother, Renee, is beaming, touching my arm and making small talk about the heat, before nudging Marie who offers her hand with a wink. There are some other family members visiting I vaguely remember from the wedding, who also want to shake my hand and ask how I like Lafayette.

As I look at them, it's difficult to distinguish where they all fit into the family. Marie doesn't look old enough to be Renee's mother, and Renee… shit… if she had Bella when she was twenty-one, that makes her… six years older than me. The dad looks much older with gray creeping into his moustache, so much older that he could probably pass for Marie's husband. The others belong somewhere in between, but for the life of me, I can't work out where.

I follow their eyes to see my date coming down the stairs, looking more beautiful than ever. She's wearing an uncomplicated burgundy dress, bare on one shoulder, and her hair flowing down her back. The simplicity of the dress only highlights what's going on underneath, and I have to control my eyes from roaming over the body I know.

"I'm sorry I'm late," I say, fixed by the magic of her gaze.

"I'm glad you made it," she purrs and glances at the flowers.

"These are for you."

"Thank you, they're beautiful." She looks up from under her lashes and says, "I'll take them with me."

This is not how I anticipated our meeting in front of her parents for this supposed one-off date. The electricity running between us has to be obvious to everyone in the room, so I motion for us to leave, only to hear Renee call out, "Not yet, we need photos!"

We have a photo taken with everyone in the house, including Bella's father, who is obviously making an effort for his daughter's benefit. When we finally escape, they all follow us out the door to wave goodbye.

Jacob Black is out of the car now, leaning against the door, still having a staring match with Bella's dad. He's big and tall, probably a basketball or football player, and Bella groans when she sees him. Her shoulders drop as she says, "I'm sorry guys, but Edward made it after all. I'll see you all there."

Jacob gives me a look of warning and gets in, barely closing his door before they take off with the music blaring again. Bella sighs and says to herself, "They'll understand."

Taking her around to the passenger side, I open the door and we both give the family a wave as I say to her quietly, "You look gorgeous."

"Thank you." Her eyes are smoldering as she looks me over. "You look edible."

Obscene thoughts fill my head as I mirror her look, close her door, and head around to my side, taking my jacket off and hanging it on the back of my seat. As I start the engine, her hand finds its place on my thigh and she says, "I want to kiss you."

I want a lot more than that and I need to know if it's possible before I have to go home. "Are you… staying here tonight?"

She smiles smugly and says, "Settle down big boy, we'll get to it."

That sounds promising. "Did you find somewhere?"

Nodding, she squeezes my leg. She's so sexy when she's mysterious like this, but she's right, we will get to it. A date should consist of more than hours of fucking. I put the car in gear and pull out with a final wave, a couple of toots of the horn and a breath of relief.

"Okay, direct me."

She looks over and smiles as we take off with the car already full of the heady scent of her hair. Over the river into West Lafayette, I can see the university before we head north. When we turn in, the sign says "Four Points by Sheraton."

"Is this where we're staying?"

She giggles and shakes her head. "This is just dinner."

When I cut the ignition, I turn to face her, take the flowers from her hand and place them in the back. Then I move her hair over her bare shoulder and hold her jaw, pressing my lips gently against hers. Twice more I kiss her like this, before she holds my shoulder and kisses me back with the tiniest whimper. Our tongues just ghost across each other, but I think we both know it would be fatal to introduce them at this point. I'm already getting hard and the way she's breathing isn't helping. Then she stares at me with more smoldering eyes. "You are so hot. I want to show you off."

With the back of my fingers, I touch her cheek and say, "Stay where you are." Getting out, I put my jacket on and then lean in to pick up the flowers, giving her another kiss before going around and opening the door for her.

When she grins and lets me help her stand, she slides her hands inside my jacket and says, "Thank you for doing this."

I answer by kissing her again and then saying, "My pleasure. Just wait until you hear the day I've had."

As she takes my arm with the flowers between us, I describe speeding down from Chicago, losing my way at the university, feeling like I was going to have a heart attack in the heat, and failing to gain entry to the hall. Then I tell her about proudly watching her on television, Marie washing my shirt, and the afternoon at the mall, getting ready like a homeless person.

She's killing herself laughing when we reach a sign that says, "GRAND BALLROOM," and I halt, realizing this is much more formal than I thought.

"Are we sharing a seat? Not that I'd be complaining about it."

"I never cancelled," she almost whispers, close to me.

"You never cancelled."

"No."

"Why?" I ask, leaning down to her face.

She looks embarrassed when her eyes meet mine. "I already told a couple of close friends, so if I said you weren't coming, they'd think I made the whole thing up… and I… I needed you for protection."

Instinctively, my hand covers hers, still resting in the crook of my elbow. "Protection?"

We move into the room, decorated in black, white and gold with a Purdue banner hanging above a small stage. She looks around while still talking quietly to me. "An ex-boyfriend is sniffing around. If he thought you might still show up, I could fend him off."

"Was that him leaning on the car out front of your parents' house?"

Amazed, she looks at me. "Yes, it was. How did you know?"

"From the look he gave me... like he wants to rip me apart."

"This is us." We're at our table, the first to arrive, and there's a place card with my name on it. I put my arm around her as she shows me the photos she took during the day, starting with formal family shots, and then lots of smiling people in black gowns, laughing as she explains some of the funnier things that happened.

"This one. The Alpha Phi girls." She shakes her head. "High class skank." The photo is of nine girls in a row, eight of them blonde, posing by pulling up their gowns and showing their left thighs. They do all have nice legs.

There's one of her with Jacob Black where she has a forced smile on her face. He's beaming and pulling her close, almost swamping her with his size.

Someone stumbles in front of us as "Oh my gosh!" comes out of her mouth and she looks at Bella with huge eyes.

"Angela and Ben, this is Edward."

Ben offers his hand and Angela is visibly trembling when she does the same. "Nice to meet you," I say, standing and feeling embarrassed. As the table fills up, we have a similar moment with Jane, one of Bella's other girlfriends, but the guys all seem friendly and relaxed, especially when the waiter arrives with drinks and everyone toasts.

Over dinner, I see that this is a group of intelligent people, some going on to graduate studies and others with jobs already in place. There's a feeling of great optimism here that I find energizing and their passions come through without them being overbearing. I like these friends of Bella's. They show genuine interest in my career and how I'm working to realize my dream.

None of them mention the age gap, and I don't feel it at this table. I think Bella is comfortable too, because she slips her hand around my elbow and leaves it there, occasionally leaning her cheek on my shoulder.

It seems appropriate for me to tell the story from the moment I arrived at the university, and everyone laughs, including Bella who's heard it before. I won't tell it again in front of her because I never want to see her roll her eyes at me, but for now she's still laughing.

This might be the first time I ever consider the advantages of being part of a couple. It doesn't take much to be congenial and enjoy her friends' company when they accept me, simply because she's the one who's chosen me.

I think about gaining another family with all its assorted complexity, and how she would become part of mine when, together, we're the first to arrive on Christmas Day bearing gifts. I wonder how my mother would react to me bringing a girl home.

When Rose and I were kids and going through the hell of our parents' meltdowns, we always used to say, "I will never get married." I should ask her what it was that made her change her mind and marry Garrett, what made her try to stay married for so long, and what it is that keeps her glued to Emmett McCarty lately. The truth is obvious - she's braver than I am.

I'm not paying attention when Bella's sensuous voice tickles my ear. "Want to get some air?"

We stand and she leads me out the doors, but instead of heading outside, she pulls me straight ahead, around a corner, and into a small meeting room. Without giving me a chance to ask what we're doing, I'm suddenly leaning against a boardroom table and she's between my legs, hugging me.

"I missed you," she says, taking in a deep breath. "I love the way you smell."

Running my hands through the curtain of hair that envelops us, its silky weight is both comforting and enticing. It flows over me like a river when she pulls back and smiles.

"I thought I imagined the sound of your car out front today. I will never forget this as long as I live. Thank you."

"You should have told me this was important to you," I say, still playing with her hair.

Her eyes well with tears so quickly, I sense she may have cried over this before, but she looks down, hiding them from me. "You were so busy. I couldn't do that."

Tipping her chin up, I want her to know I mean what I'm about to say. "Expect me to make time for you. You're important to me."

She cups my jaw and says, "And you _are_ amazing," as a tear runs down her cheek. I swipe it away gently with my thumb, kiss her softly, and then she hugs me again. Soaking up the feeling of her needing me physically, I want her to hold me for as long as she wants, and I don't speak until she lets me go.

"Shall we go back to your friends? I really like them."

With a giggle, she takes my hand. "Me too."

When we enter the ballroom again, the volume has risen as voices now compete with dance music. People are moving to an Usher track and my guess is we'll hear all the hit songs from her generation tonight.

We head back to our table where a small group is chatting with Ben and I try a mouthful of my dessert. I'm not that hungry so I push it away, disappointed it's lukewarm and the ice cream topping is melted in a pool on the plate. Bella has almost finished hers when the track changes and Jane, Angela and Bella smile at each other, jumping up without speaking. It's Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream."

Bella leans down, kisses my cheek and says, "Be right back, handsome." I hold her in place and kiss her lips before they head to the dance floor, staying close together, dancing with their arms in the air.

"Every time," Jane's boyfriend, Demetri, says as he shakes his head at them.

Only glancing back briefly, I ask, "Is this a favorite?"

"You have no idea how many times we've heard this album."

The joy on the girls' faces is magnetic as they talk and dance and laugh. These three friends are enjoying the end of a phase in their life, ready to conquer the world, dancing to a track that was probably a coming of age song for them not that long ago.

I like Katy Perry. She's a young woman who resisted the Hollywood music factories and forged her own path into the stratosphere of the entertainment business. She's a good role model for young women and she knows how to use sex to sell records without being trashy herself.

The smile remains on my face all through the song and stays when I watch the three of them embrace at the end. Kanye West starts to play, and they're on their way back to us when Jacob Black comes out of nowhere and clutches Bella's arm. Ben and Demetri are immediately on their feet, watching closely.

"Is she in trouble?" I ask them, not knowing the boy.

"He's not great when he's been drinking. I would step in now."

I don't hesitate, walking right up to him. "Let her go."

He huffs and says, "It's the piano man," his voice full of sarcasm, and he removes his hand from her arm, instantly throwing a punch at me, which I only just manage to dodge.

"Jake!" she screams at him, with so much anger she startles me.

As he rights himself, he grins stupidly and asks, "How old are you? Thirty? Can't you find someone your own age?"

There is no way I'm getting into something I know nothing about so, protecting her with my body, I move us away and she says, "Come on, let's just leave."

I don't understand her reasoning. "It's your graduation. Let's call security if he's drunk."

"No, Edward. Let's go."

The only thing I can do is sigh and check behind us. He is breathing so heavily, he looks like he's ready to come at me again. I don't know what this is but I _would_ like to get her away from him, so we say our goodbyes to her friends and none of them question her decision to leave. She hugs them, saying she will call soon. Bella's emotional and getting increasingly agitated, keeping her eye on where Jacob is. Now she's making me so nervous I can't get us out of here fast enough.

It's dark outside, and the first thing she does is burst into tears. I hurry us to the car and hold her, telling her that I won't let anything happen to her, but she wants to get in and leave right away. As we're driving out, I see Jacob storm out the doors and throw a bottle at us, but we're too far away and it smashes on the asphalt.

"Fucking hell," I breathe out in relief when we're out on the street. Bella hasn't taken her eyes off him.

"Asshole," she says as she faces forward, takes the flowers and buries her nose in them.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on with this guy?"

"No, not at the moment," she says adamantly and then swivels toward me. "Make me forget about him."

"I can do that. So, where to, madam?"

She leans over, resting her arms on my shoulders with her face up close. "Indianapolis," she announces with a giggle, as if she has already forgotten the incident.

I start to chuckle and ask, "Indianapolis, really?" I don't know why I'm surprised.

"Yeah, I have to start work on Monday. Want to stay over at my new place?"

_Jesus, this girl…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Three women worked hard to help me with this chapter. Nic keeps me in character and encourages me to keep writing. VampyreGirl86 checks every word and finds all my foreign phrases that don't translate. Hadley, well she inspires me to find a better way to say what I mean. I can't thank any of you enough.**

**I really am still smiling from the lovely reviews I've received this week. I've met some great people along the way too.**

**Jennifer Jennings made me a banner for this story! The link is on my profile page.**

**Disclaimer**: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

_**Edward**_

We're on Interstate 65, driving south into the darkness of rural America when Bella starts playing with my hair.

"So, what made you change your mind about coming to graduation?"

It's a question that's been on my mind a lot today. "I just had this overwhelming feeling I was making a mistake. I _had_ to come down."

"You never considered that I might have another date for the evening?"

Looking over to see if she's joking, I catch her arched eyebrow and shake my head with a smirk. "I'm not very good at this, am I?"

She giggles as if it's her answer. "You're under a lot of pressure, Edward."

It's too warm for this jacket and I want to lower the roof, but there is nowhere safe to stop, so I take the first exit I find and then turn onto a lonely road. There's not much around here except the sound of insects singing, the light of the moon and the interstate overpass dimly illuminating the fields.

I get out and take the jacket off, throwing it in the back and loosening my tie, feeling ten degrees cooler already. Bella places her flowers on top of my jacket. When I press the button, the panel moves away to allow the roof to fold inside. After checking it's secure, I raise the wind deflector, get back in, and put my seatbelt on.

Bella pays no attention, not saying a single word.

Turning the car around and driving off, I ask, "Everything okay?"

She doesn't answer me and I wonder if I've upset her by making this brief pit stop.

"Bella?"

"I thought you stopped here to…" Her eyes flick at me as if she's embarrassed, and then she looks away.

"What?

"You know… do something dirty… on the car."

Slamming my foot on the brake, hard enough for her to hold onto the door, I ask, "Do you want to?"

She looks around as if she seriously considers it, but then grimaces and shakes her head. "There's too many bugs here."

"Fuck," I say under my breath, trying to banish the image of her naked and spread on the front of the car. "We need some music."

In an apologetic voice, she says, "I'm never sure what to expect from you, Edward. You've had all the experiences and I haven't. I know people come down here to make out."

Finding something suitable to play, I can only glance at her, still so shocked I don't know what to say.

The Yiruma album is playing as we return to the interstate, and with the wind deflector up, we can listen to it properly. It's a favorite of mine at the moment and it does a great job of clearing my head.

As if she's already forgotten what just happened, she asks matter-of-factly, "How was the gig, Edward?"

I'm astounded how easily she just moves on. "It was even better than the first time, more people, more applause, more dancing."

"I knew it would be. Did you play our song again?"

Grinning, I love her calling it _our_ song. "Yes, we did and we're going to call it 'Whisper,' maybe even record it."

She leans back in her seat and closes her eyes.

"Are you sleepy?"

"I'm just remembering what it was like when I saw you perform it. I felt like I was yours that night."

No woman has ever said anything like this to me so I have no idea how to respond. It could be a declaration of feelings or I could be completely misreading it. Since this is Bella Swan, I definitely won't anticipate her.

"Wow, this is so beautiful. Who is it?" she asks, sounding dreamy.

"It's Yiruma. He's a South Korean composer, an amazing talent."

She soon falls asleep, succumbing to her big day in the heat, and it gives me a chance to relax and enjoy the drive on this warm night with her next to me.

I like the way she gives in to sleep when she needs to, but I wonder if this behavior would be as attractive in another woman. I wish I knew how to tell her that everything she does, every word that passes her lips engages me more, even when she's shocking me.

While the physical attraction has in no way diminished, tonight I've been content just to be with her, observe her in her own environment, and see if there is any room for me. Except for the jealous ex-boyfriend's appearance, I believe it's been a good date. I hope _she_ thinks so.

Where do we go from here? Nothing is ever certain, but I will ensure that we have some plans before I go back to Chicago. To return home and lose contact now would be a tragedy.

An hour later, we're approaching Indiana's capital city. I've never been here before and it's time to rouse Bella from her angelic slumber.

She sits up and looks around, stretches and checks the GPS. Then she puts her arms around me and kisses my cheek.

"I've been watching you sleep."

"Have you?" she asks, brushing her lips over my ear. "I might watch _you_ sleep later."

Keeping my eyes on the road I add, "I'm not planning on much sleep."

Using her tongue and teeth on my earlobe, she whispers, "Me neither."

I growl and ask, "How far is it?"

The question is meant to convey that we can't get there fast enough because I'm really getting into what she's doing to me, but it takes her out of the moment. She moves away, studies the GPS and says, "Oh, we're nearly there."

Soon I'm parking my car in her empty spot and when I take my overnight bag from the car, she's very interested in what I'm doing.

"The trunk is in the front?" she inquires, leaning in to see how much space there is. Never one to bore others with the statistics I retain about the Porsche 911, I just smile. It's 4.7 cubic feet. She seems to approve, and as I watch her, I realize she took nothing from the car.

"You have no bag."

"No, I brought everything I need during the week. One of my friends was going to give me a ride back here tomorrow." When I sigh, she reads my mind. "It's okay, Edward. It was all easily managed."

Following her through a security door and up a flight of stairs, I feel dreadful. "I should have helped you move in."

"Not from New York you couldn't," she says, pushing another door open. The corridor smells more of cooking than anything else, not entirely unpleasant. The sound of Saturday night television and poor quality Bon Jovi coming out of the other apartments is worse.

"So, this is why you didn't know where we were staying?"

We come to a stop and she smiles. "Only because I wasn't sure if the bed would arrive in time."

"Did… did it arrive?" I ask, a little too eager for the answer.

With the key in her door, she smirks at me as we go inside and she answers, "Yes, it did."

When she turns on the light, I try not to react to what's in front of me. I see why they call these studio apartments because the whole thing is no bigger than my recording studio, but I guess it's enough. It's definitely nicer than some of the places I lived in during my time in New York.

The dining area is a coffee table and a two-seater couch. Her kitchen is just a bench against a wall with a two-burner stovetop, a sink and a tiny fridge at one end. There isn't an air conditioner or even an oven.

She opens a window and turns on a fan, saying, "Edward, please don't look like that. This is what I need right now." Opening a cupboard, she produces a glass jug she fills with water for the flowers.

Trying to wipe the look off my face, I try humor. "I guess at least you won't be sharing."

Her expression changes and she comes over, running her hands over my shoulders.

"I'm sharing tonight. Have I told you I'm in love with your eyes?"

Before I can reply, her lips are on mine, and her tongue is teasing me into action. I want to let her lead me, but the man in me can't wait, and I walk us the couple of steps to the bed.

Breaking away, she pulls the covers off and and throws them on the couch. Then, with a mischievous smile, she asks,"Wanna get messy?"

Fuck me, if that isn't the hottest thing. I want her legs around me when I get her on the bed so I push her dress up her thighs, catching sight of the plainest, most generic white panties I've ever seen. I like this, thinking she didn't plan to reveal her underwear tonight.

Kissing her like I own her, she returns my passion with a fervor she hasn't shown before, moaning and making me hard so fast I almost cry out. I can't decide what I want first. Her tongue alone is enough to do me in, but I want her neck, her hair, her legs, tits, pussy, all of her, all at once and all right now.

Her fingers clutch at my hair and then scratch down my back all the way to my ass, pulling me into her heat. If I was twenty-one, I'd be ready to blow my load already. Fuck, I am close, but I want pussy, not with my dick but with my tongue. I yank her panties off and spread her, licking her as she watches me with eyes that beg me to do it.

It's need driving me, weeks of denial and stress pouring into this girl who's now panting and working my tongue with her pussy. God, I love this, holding on for the ride as she comes and keeping it up until she shoves me away, removing her dress and bra before climbing over to undress me.

Loosening my tie enough to get it over my head, she flings it away victoriously. She's so glorious like this that I have to kiss her as she goes to work on the buttons of my shirt, and it's soon thrown behind her as well. Then, a knowing eyebrow announces she is getting me out of my pants, and I watch her focus on stripping me.

As soon as my clothes are on the floor, her hand encloses my shaft, pumping slowly. "Oh boy," she says with that sexy voice when my dick jumps in her hand. She leans down and kisses it gently, a slow path to the head, but then hesitates, glancing up for... what, instruction?

"Come up here," I summon her, lonesome without her mouth and her tits on my chest.

She gives up easily, smiling as she brings her body up to mine and my arms fold around her. Rolling us over, I almost send us over the edge of the bed. When she apologizes that it's only a double, I move her hair back and say, "You're perfect." I meant to say that the bed was perfect but in that moment, I know that I've never been more honest. Her eyes show she senses it too and we stare at each other, waiting for something monumental to occur.

"I'm covered," Bella says unexpectedly. As I realize the meaning of her words, my head swims with strange primal urges, and I groan at how erotic I find the idea of letting go buried deep inside her.

I only have to move my hips slightly and push inside her to know this is where I belong, where I've belonged since the night of Garrett's wedding. The feeling of wanting to possess this girl is so intense that I can't stop kissing her, lost in the dual sensations of our tongues moving together and my dick sliding in and out of her.

As I become more worked up, the feel of her hard nipples under my tongue starts to get to me. She moans now, audibly encouraging me for more, and it only takes one easy finger, circling her clit, for me to enter a rapture of tightening pussy. Wrapping her arms around me tightly, she makes a gritty sound, holding on as her orgasm rocks us together.

My balls contract and I let go, holding her and sucking at the pulse raging in her neck. I feel like there's something important she needs to know that I can only articulate with a desperate embrace.

"Good God." Her breath and her voice in my ear bring me around. "That was intense," she gushes out, sliding her hands over my ass cheeks. It feels so good that I could stay joined like this all night long, and I keep kissing her neck, hoping she won't stop. "So that's the real you."

I raise my head and ask, "The real me?" and then I wait while she looks at my hair and then runs her fingers around my ears. Why don't I like where this is going? What was the me that wasn't real?

Frustrated she's not answering the question, I ask her directly, "How am I different Bella?"

She sighs gently and answers, "Please don't take this the wrong way."

Christ, nothing positive ever started with those words.

"Great." I pull out and roll on my back, sorry I asked. She groans and lays on me, pressing those damn perfect tits into my side as she runs her hand over my chest. The action doesn't match what I think she's about to say.

"The first time, after the wedding, you were kind of mechanical, Edward. Don't get me wrong; you are very good at sex, and I never expected to feel a connection, but it was like you were showing me your skill, as if I was just another female. I guess if the phone thing hadn't happened, I could have walked away and happily ticked a few things off my bucket list. It wasn't as hard as I thought to live out the fantasy and give it up."

Looking at the ceiling works better than having to face her right now. "Why did you even bother to contact me?"

She holds my jaw to make me look at her.

"I couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful you looked when you slept, or how I dreamed that you cared for me when I whispered in your ear. Then, when we started messaging in that almost therapeutic way, I began to see you like anyone else, lonely and working too hard. I was lonely too, you know, so I just threw the offer out there to see what came back. Oh, Edward, that weekend was full of surprises and I felt a connection by the time I had to leave. I cried most of the way home, wondering if I'd ever see you again."

Tears fill her eyes and I surround her with my arms, encouraged to hear her side of things was similar to mine.

"Neither of us had any time left for each other and I could feel you slipping away, so I had to get to the gig to show you how much you meant to me. And then you were so good. And then the song. Oh, God, the song. I don't know which had the bigger effect on me: hearing you sing to me or seeing you at the bottom of the stairs today, holding the flowers."

She starts to laugh, still crying, and I'm not sure whether it's appropriate to have a huge grin on my face.

"When you came to pick me up, it didn't seem real, but you _are_ real, and I'm crazy about the real you."

A tear spills from her cheek and falls on my chest. I take her face in my hands and really look at her closely: the blue of her eyes, even more vivid through tears, the tiny freckles either side of her upturned nose, and the full lips that drive me insane. Each characteristic has its own unique beauty, rather than her face merely being beautiful.

When a second tear hits my skin, she touches it with her finger. "You don't have to say anything back, Edward."

This is a big deal for me and I'm surprised it suddenly seems so easy.

"You know what I was thinking about over dinner, Bella?"

She looks up as if she knows I'm about to disappoint her, and I touch her lips before she makes the mistake of anticipating me. It appears we've both fallen into that trap tonight, because I think I'm about to surprise her.

"I was thinking about what it would be like to be part of a couple, and for the first time ever, I actually liked the idea."

A tiny smile softens her eyes, and I kiss her, moving so we're facing each other, touching my forehead to hers.

"Coming home after that weekend away, I felt entirely empty. When you left in that limo, I wanted to chase you down the highway so I could drive you home and spend some more time with you. I had the same feeling this morning when I watched the start of your procession, like panic and longing mixed up together."

She touches my hair, sliding her hands down to gently cup my jaw.

"I _never _feel like this, Bella. I'm crazy about you too."

She kisses my forehead, my eyes, and my cheeks gently, like a fairy sprinkling her magic over me with her lips.

"I don't know why I let you talk me out of coming down here. I had a great time today. Your family and your friends were very welcoming. I suppose that was because I was with you."

Bella looks at me as if I've said something stupid. "That's not true. They're definitely not that shallow. No, you charmed them yourself."

"What about this boy, this Jake? Are you going to tell me?"

She throws her leg over me and snuggles in as close as she can get.

"No. I want to concentrate on you."

I underestimate the power of emotion in taking sex to a new level because I'm having the complete experience. Memorizing her body with my hands and my eyes, I follow her curves through the slowest of sensual fucking, long drawn out strokes, soft places to rest. She talked about a connection and I'm now recognizing it in a fusion of bodies and minds.

When I hold her, feeling utterly content, the sweet sultry voice of my baby whisperer is in my ear listing all the things she loves about me, and I drift off with a smile on my face and an ego the size of Texas.

In the morning, she wakes me with an announcement that she's going out to get coffee, so I produce the gift I brought for her. She's so shocked at first that she can hardly speak, and then she keeps going on about how thoughtful I am. Is that true? I did see it and think of _her_, so maybe I _was_ being thoughtful, but it didn't seem to require any effort.

She cooks her eggs again, and I can't leave her alone at the stove, especially when she turns to kiss me and makes that aroused humming sound. I'm finding there is something about a home-cooked breakfast that makes me very horny.

Neither of us speaks about the fact that the weekend is ending today. Knowing we're crazy about each other does help, but the wrench of our parting is already weighing on me heavily.

"How are you going to get to work?" I ask, having no idea how far away the preschool is.

"I'm going to walk. It's less than a mile."

I don't like this. She doesn't know the neighborhood or who's in it. "I could easily get you a car."

"What? No, you just bought me the coffee maker and that's enough, Edward. I have to stand on my own two feet, and I _will_ get a car if and when I need one."

Trying to hide a sigh, I'm not stupid enough to argue against a proclamation of independence, but I _will_ find a way to win this one. "It would make me very happy," I say, hopefully.

She groans and looks out the window.

"Alright then, I'll walk with you to work tomorrow."

At the precise moment she realizes what I'm saying, a smile breaks through and she throws her arms around me. "You're going to stay tonight?"

I nod and chuckle. "You want to show me how we get there?"

After kissing me soundly, she jumps up and grabs her phone from its charger.

"Wow." She is suddenly serious as she studies it. "I have so many alerts." Her fingers fly over the screen and then she hands it to me. "You had better see this."

There, on her Facebook page, amid Graduation Day images her friends have shared, two pictures repeat. One shows Jacob Black throwing a punch at me. To anyone who didn't witness what happened, the angle makes it look like my head is knocked back by the punch. The other one is of me holding Bella behind me to protect her.

The text says, "Fighting over a Swan. #PurdueGraduationDinner," and there are various questions about who I am and what I was doing there with her. They've listed my name in later posts and people are saying we were together.

When I look up at her, she's devastated. "I'm so sorry, Edward."

This really isn't a big deal to me. Images and comments have ceased to impact me over the years. I hardly pay any attention to it anymore, and I leave it mostly to Alice.

"Hey, it's not your fault, and we weren't doing anything wrong. I wonder if they're on _my_ Facebook page as well. Alice would be saying, 'I told you so,' while she deletes every one she can find. No one will remember it was ever there after a week."

"Really? Well, I can tell you if it's there. We're friends in real life."

"We are? In 'real life' you say." I find this hilarious and start to laugh.

"You don't know who your friends are? Aren't they your fans? That's disgraceful." The way she uses the word exactly as her grandmother did yesterday makes me crack up even more. When I barely show interest that the same images adorn my wall, her mouth drops as she looks at me. "You're not worried about this?"

Shaking my head, I respond, "I'll call Alice. It's really her domain."

Bella still looks deeply concerned. "Is this going to cause trouble for you?"

"Why should it? I had a date with a beautiful woman and her good friends. I kissed you in public last night, so the cat's out of the bag."

The worry melts away from her face, and the look she gives me is one of wonder and lust. As she slides her hands around me, she says, "I am so crazy about you."

We take off, heading for downtown, and start with a tour of the Museum of Art, followed by a stroll through a great swath of the city encompassing circular piazzas, monuments, and fountains. Wandering up Michigan Street, we're lured in by the mouthwatering smells and the music coming from the Rathskeller with its lively beer garden, German food and beer, so we decide to stay for an early dinner.

I haven't spent an afternoon like this for a long time, and I watch the cross section of people, interested in how couples communicate physically. The way I see them is different now. Bella's public affection is innocent, but even a task as mundane as choosing from the menu is heightened when a lazy arm rests on my shoulder, fingers scratch the back of my neck, or she kisses my cheek when the waitress leaves.

I take her hand in both of mine and then that's not enough. My arm has to completely encircle her and pull her close to me. Instead of enjoying her company, I'm piling up sadness, looking around at people laughing and leaning into each other, reminding me that our time together is limited.

Why am I going through such strong feelings of loss when I'm still here? This isn't fair. I can feel her looking up into a face I don't want her to see.

The food arrives and I try to stop feeling sorry for myself, but I know I must find a way to cement myself into her newly independent life before someone else can take my place. I ask her if she will come to Chicago next weekend, but Angela and Ben are already coming to visit. She promises to come in two weeks. Two weeks. It seems like forever.

Bella is up very early for her first day of work, checking the contents of a large art portfolio bag.

When I hand her a coffee, she says, "Oh, you're the best. I'm going to make a sandwich, Edward. Do you want one for the road?"

"No, thanks. I'm fine," She doesn't know it yet, but I'm not driving back today. I was so down last night that I decided to give myself another twenty-four hours here. It has perked me up no end, and if I can just get a hold of Rose today, I know talking to her will help me. She's probably the only one who will understand why I'm handling this like a child.

Lifting the portfolio, I gauge its weight and decide I probably can't use it as an argument for a car, but I'm still determined. Bella's eyes narrow when I look at her innocently, as if she's on to me. I really do feel like she can read my mind sometimes.

She puts on a floral dress and flat shoes, looking so pretty and sweet that I sigh when I see her. Is it possible that this girl could be my future? Is this where I reassess every notion I've had about relationships? Could we make it work, three hours and two careers apart?

Bella hugs me so hard before we leave that I feel bad for not telling her I'll be there to collect her this afternoon, but the surprise will be worth it. We kiss without either of us succumbing to lust and then she hands me a spare key, telling me she's going to miss me. I can see moisture in her eyes, but she's putting on a brave face for one who is normally so emotional.

I carry the portfolio as we walk through the streets of her neighborhood, past a small shopping center, and keep going until we reach a large fitness club where people are running on treadmills behind glass above us. The preschool is at the rear.

"This is where we say goodbye, Edward."

"I'll take you to the door."

"No, there are people waiting already. I won't get a chance to say goodbye properly."

She smiles and slides her hands around me, looking up into my eyes. "So I want you to be very careful driving back, and I'll call you this afternoon to make sure you made it." Taking the portfolio from my shoulder, she holds my hand and says, "Thank you for everything this weekend. I'll never forget it."

After a tiny kiss and me not wanting to let go of her, she asks, "You know how I feel about you, don't you?" Nodding, I let go finally, then she leaves me, turning back with a little wave and her lips tightly hugging her teeth.

She walks along the edge of the parking lot where car doors open and people call her name, obviously remembering her. She stops to say a few words to them, waggling her fingers and smiling at little people still strapped in the back. Someone lets her in the front door and parents pull bags and sleepy children from their cars, heading to the front door to wait for the opening at 7:30.

Fighting an impulse to go in and see where she works, I turn around and walk back the same way, combing the area for danger, but finding nothing I can use in my pro-car argument except the heat. The sun is already biting and when she leaves at four o'clock, it will be still be hot and humid.

Checking out the shopping center only streets from the apartment, she has everything she needs: a hairdresser, pharmacy, coffee place, Subway, pizza/pasta take out, and a grocery store.

Then it hits me. This is fine for picking up something last minute but how will she do her shopping? Is she going to lug bags with her on foot in this heat? No, it's ridiculous to think I'm going to let that happen. She absolutely has to have a car if only for that reason.

I'm muttering, convincing myself I'm right when I enter the apartment, but I sink into reality when I look at the kitchen. You don't stock up when you have this little storage space and nothing much more than a bar fridge. This location is perfect for picking things up daily, so impossibly different to the way I do things, or Alice does, having it delivered and packed away as I fly in.

Sitting on the bed, I remember another time, a grungy apartment and the freedom to do things my way. My father was certain I'd never finish the degree, but I proved him wrong when I sent him a photo of me in my cap and gown. Mom was elated I'd done so well, but neither of them attended the ceremony or the drinks where everyone else had proud parents with them.

The day after I graduated, I was back at my job at the bar where I learned to recognize good whiskey and jazz music. The best thing about working there was they let me use their piano to practice, and the money I earned was enough to save a little, pay the bills, and keep my suit professionally cleaned. Being immaculate was my number one priority when auditioning. Even before Garrett's influence, I knew that looking the part would get me through doors just as much as my perfect staccato.

After a year when nothing happened, my mother told me to come home, but I made excuses rather than tell her I'd never be back to live there again. Instead, I went to Europe and saw every concert I could afford, funding the trip with casual bar work.

That's where I met Garrett – the Crossfield's Pub in Vienna – a strange place full of Austrians eating what was supposed to be Australian food: fried grasshoppers, kangaroo, crocodile and Vegemite on toast, something I had to spit out. Garrett and I had everything in common: our hometown of Chicago, our perfect qualifications, and zero experience.

By the time I came home to the States, he had people lined up to mentor me and put my name forward, already knowing my age was going against me when auditioning. These people created opportunities like the performance of "Gramophone" that kick started my career as a concert pianist. After that, Garrett went to work on finding me more contacts while creating the Edward Masen persona.

The night he met Rose, he told me he was going to marry her whether she liked it or not, and nothing I said on the matter made any difference. Maybe her ego fell in love with him. I've never understood what that could be like before this weekend.

I need to talk to Rose, it's not even 8:30 yet and I'm already yawning. I'll touch base with Alice since I'm paying her to be awake and on call.

"_Good morning, Edward. Nice weekend?"_

The tone in her voice says she's seen the pictures. This should be interesting.

"Very nice, thank you, Alice, and you?"

She rarely answers any personal questions, preferring to launch right into business. It's just that our business is me. I've never felt warmth from her, and I guess I've never encouraged it. She doesn't nag, but I know she doesn't approve of me, thinking she knows everything when she understands nothing.

"_Do I actually have to ask what happened, Edward?"_

"No one hit anyone if that's what you mean. He was threatening Bella, so I stopped him."

"_I already know that. It's all in the comments. I'm leaving the photos up there and letting it play out."_

This better not be some vindictive shit that she and Garrett have cooked up to put me in my place.

Calmly, I ask, "Why would you do that?"

"_Because the comments are so good, Edward. They're curious, obviously, but they like this version of you who protects a young woman like that. You finally have blood in your veins." _

It's a nasty swipe, but it won't connect if I don't react.

"_I like this version of you too."_

I was not expecting that. I don't even know how to take a personal compliment from Alice.

"_Are you going to tell me… why it is that there's been nothing for me to clean up or delete since the wedding? You're different."_

Stupidly, I thought I'd covered our tracks and yet sex, or the lack of it, had given me away.

"We've been corresponding." It's a simple statement of truth that she can take what she needs from.

"_Why did you go down there? They weren't expecting you."_

"I wanted to. I… I like her a lot."

The gasp is so loud I move the phone away and wait for a second or two before I put it back to my ear.

"_Okay… Wow… Uh… Is there anything you need me to do? I mean work-wise."_

Suddenly, I have a moment of clarity, and I want every annoyance and frustration gone from my life.

"Yes. Tell Garrett not to book anything more unless he talks to me first. I don't want any surprises and I don't want a repeat of what just happened in New York. I want to hear the September orchestra in two weeks, not four. Schedule a meeting with the boys from Mister Lonesome at my place so we can talk about a more permanent contract. Oh, and let's not pussyfoot around. Tell them I think they're fucking amazing. I'll talk to Rose separately."

"_Yes, sir. Anything else?"_

"No, I'll see you when I get back. You deal with the internet thing as you see fit."

"_What about Garrett?"_

"Let his family tell him if they think he needs to know."

"_Gotcha."_

Hanging up, I know I've just forced my PA to choose whose side she is on, mine or my agent's. The temptation to tell what I've just admitted about Bella will make it even harder on her.

Next, I send a text to Rose, asking her to call me rather than waking her up. As I lay down on Bella's bed to wait for the call, I wonder what her advice will be.

I've been asleep for a while when the phone goes off. "Rose?"

"_Hi, Edward. What's up?"_

"_Hey Edward!"_ I hear Emmett's familiar voice in the background.

"Rose, we need privacy for this conversation. I'm after some guidance."

"_Sure." _I hear a door click shut and she asks,_ "Is everything okay?"_

I let out a long breath, trying to bolster myself up. "Bella and I had our date on Saturday night, and I'm still with her."

"_Is she listening, Edward?"_

"No. She started work today. She thinks I've already gone home, but I'm struggling to leave. I'm going to pick her up this afternoon. Rose, I have feelings for her."

She hesitates and then says, _"Welcome to the human race. Finally."_ I imagine her shaking her head at me. "_Are you ready for this?"_

"I don't know. Do you think I'm crazy when she's so young?"

"_It doesn't matter what I think and you heard what she said to Garrett. It's all just numbers. Emmett's only twenty-nine. Do you think badly of me?"_

"That's six years, Rose. This is fifteen."

She groans as if we've already covered it._ "Did you get to meet any of the family?"_

"What a treat. Marie is… I would have loved to have her for a mother."

"_I know. They're all like that. I miss the whole family. How was Charlie? Icy?"_

I have to think about the answer because I'm really not sure. "Hmm, no, he was okay, not overly friendly. Apparently he had a background check done on me."

She cracks up, laughing so hard that it sends me into my own fits of laughter.

"_And… he still…"_ She carries on, laughing between the words, _"__l__et you… take her out?"_

It's not that funny. "Stop it!"

"_Oh__ dear,"_ she says, the laughter finally fading, _"I didn't even know you were looking for a girlfriend."_

"I wasn't, Rose. We've been talking on the internet since the wedding, and I don't know, we just click. She doesn't ask anything of me, you know?"

"_I don't think it's realistic to think she won't want something more eventually."_

"I already want to give her things. She needs a car, and this apartment is like a postage stamp."

Once again, she groans. _"I'm talking about sharing yourself. Look, don't overwhelm her with your wealth. She won't like that."_

Rubbing my forehead in frustration, I reply, "Yeah, I know she's not easily impressed."

"_She is impressed with you and has been for years."_

Trying to ignore the thrill from that comment, I ask, "How much grief am I going to get from Garrett?"

"_Oh, I think Garrett will surprise you. Once he knows you're not going to hurt her, he'll be fine. He lied the other night."_

"What do you mean?"

"_I heard him say that she's your biggest fan, but that's not true. Garrett Baker is your biggest fan. He'll never tell you, but he loves you like a brother and he's so damn proud of what you're doing with Mister Lonesome. By the way, are we doing any more gigs? I want in. I love the way the band is coming together."_

"I want you there too, if you can spare the time. I'm about to talk to the other three about something more permanent."

I hear her squeal. "_I don't know what I'm more excited about, the band or you with a girlfriend!"_

"So you don't think it's a bad idea?"

"_For God's sake, Edward, just go for it and try to be happy. She's a terrific girl."_

We chat for a while about what we thought worked at the gig, the graduation, the date and how she's fallen for Emmett. Then she says that she and her father had dinner with my parents recently. I tell her she's spoiling the conversation now, bringing them up and turning me off relationships again, and she sighs, saying it's time I went to visit them. She doesn't go on about it, but the call ends on a slightly sour note.

I'm still glad I spoke to Rose. Where I expected negativity, she showed how to cut through the crap and get to what's important. I'm not worried about Garrett at all now, not that I'd admit to anyone else that I cared what he thought. He's her uncle, not her keeper. As Rose suggested, I will try to be happy and not overthink everything, but the hardest part will be letting Bella struggle without the comforts I can so easily provide.

There are things I can do, however, based on what she accepts without question and what she resists. I spend the rest of the day researching ways to conveniently get her to the airport so she'll make a Friday evening flight and the same for the return on Sunday. There are a lot of interesting places we can visit in this city, good restaurants I can take her to and spoil her.

By 3:15 I'm showered and shaved, so I decide to drive, just this one time. Parents are coming out the door with children of varying ages, and some of them chat with others they know. The procession slows down by 4:00 and I'm the only one left, waiting for Bella to appear. Ten minutes later, I start to worry that they've let her leave early and ruined my surprise, so I get out and go to the front door.

Through the glass, I can see her on her own with a toddler and his bag packed ready to go. She looks like she's guiding him to draw something, sitting on one of their tiny chairs alongside him.

He turns around and looks at me, but I'm not who he's waiting for and he starts to cry. I see her shoulders drop and she picks him up, holding him on her hip and talking into his ear. With her other hand cushioning his head, he leans toward her voice and settles, eventually resting his head on her shoulder.

It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and I have to press my hands against the glass when my knees go weak. It's like the sensation I felt when I saw her do this at the wedding. When she turns toward me and I see the joy on her face, I know what it is. I'm in love with this girl. I've been in love with her since I first laid eyes on her.

_**Thanks for reading. Feedback is good, so leave me a review.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**My love and thanks go to three incredible women. Nic is still as encouraging and supportive as ever - a truly lovely person as well. VampyreGirl86 somehow finds time to make me sound American while tornadoes tare her world apart around her. Hadley had me blushing this week. She has a wicked sense of humor, so the editing process is something I look forward to very much.**

**It's great to see so many people still reading, faving and following. Lots of terrific reviews this week, so thanks! **

**Disclaimer**: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Chapter 4**

_**Edward**_

Someone asks me for an autograph while I'm waiting at O'Hare. Bella's plane has touched down late and I'm not taking in what the fan is saying. I haven't even been able to retain the words in my newspaper, or pace enough steps to make time speed up.

I finally see her, coming to me in slow motion on an escalator, stuck behind people who don't realize how much I need them to let her through. Finally, she breaks away and runs to me, jumping into my arms. Nothing else exists except the way she smells and the feel of her lips on mine.

She shows no sign of stopping the kiss, and I start to laugh, enjoying the best welcome I've ever had. Neither of us needs to say anything about missing each other because it's obvious. I set her down and take her backpack. She steadies me with her beaming smile and her hand in mine as we walk.

"You've lost weight," she comments, looking me over.

"Just working out." Arriving at her graduation ceremony so out of breath was a warning that I need to spend more time in the gym. Having rectified the problem, my jeans already feel like they fit me better.

"You look amazing, Edward. Are the others there yet?" she asks, with her eyes locked on my chest. I tell her they'll be arriving soon and put my arm around her, kissing her hair. Her fingers trail over my abs and she groans as I pull her more closely into my side.

"I have a big evening planned, Bella. I hope they go for it."

"They will. I love what you've come up with. Are Garrett and Kate coming?"

When I pitched my idea to Garrett, he was enthusiastic and full of input, on board as long as everyone else was. The meeting was going well while we talked about our upcoming Friday nights at the Green Mill and the other venue he booked, called City Winery, known for its cabaret style. Both are perfect for trying out my new ideas.

Then he had to go and ask me if I was still going ahead with the date with Bella.

That told me two things: my PA hadn't betrayed my confidence and none of Bella's family had filled him in. I decided to explain we'd already had the date, it had gone very well, and she was coming to Chicago for the weekend. When he scoffed and brought up my past, I snapped and told him to fuck off and keep out of it, storming out of there with him calling out that he would be watching me.

Not surprisingly, he has declined tonight, saying that he and Kate have previous plans, so that just leaves the band and their partners.

"No, tonight is about the artists," I answer, popping the hood. "Esme is coming and Alice, of course."

"I don't think Alice likes me much," Bella says, as I drop her bag in the luggage compartment. I'm suddenly drawn to the shape of her ass in those jeans.

"Yeah, well she didn't used to like me much either," I tell her, pushing her against the car for a real kiss. When she moans and wraps a leg around me, I wonder how I'm ever going to leave her alone tonight.

We crawl through peak hour traffic and chat about our week. Bella tells me that the little boy, whose dad was late when I saw her at work, has now left because the man can no longer pick him up on time. She says she was happy to stay back for a while, but the daycare center won't allow it.

A look of anger crosses her face when she states that he has taken his son to an unlicensed daycare a couple of miles away because he can't get in anywhere else. She asks me if I know that it's legal in Indiana to take in five children without a license, and nobody knows what the quality of care is. I really don't know anything about it, so I just listen and learn.

"Fucking government," she seethes, shocking me with the aggression in her voice. "Sorry, I know they don't make enough money to meet safety standards, but it's criminal to allow them to operate without them. It just pisses me off."

Glancing over, I see her chest rising and falling as she looks out the window. Bella doesn't show this side of herself usually. I've seen snippets in some of her messages, revealing a deep commitment to the career she's chosen. I want to know more about the inner woman, the passions that make up the Bella I've fallen in love with.

"Go on. I'm listening."

She shakes her head, gathering her thoughts. "Kids have died in these places, Edward. Imagine getting a call from the daycare asking if you've picked up your child because they can't find him and he's… he's already at the bottom of a swimming pool. If you choose to look after someone else's kids, your first priority should be to protect them."

Shit. "Did that really happen?"

"Yes. It was one of the examples I used when I wrote a paper on the subject for my degree."

We're both quiet for a while, absorbing the horrible tragedy.

"I don't think you'd ever get over that, Bella."

"It's not just Indiana. Eleven states allow this to go on. I've written so many letters and every time the response is that they plan to discuss the issue, but nothing ever happens."

"Typical." I'm even becoming incensed now, just listening to her.

"I know, and it's not just about safety. The ratio of caregivers to children is very important. When kids grow up in nurturing, interactive environments they develop skills they need to thrive as adults, like how to calm down after a setback or how to focus on a problem long enough to solve it. When they don't get that kind of attention, they can lack impulse control and have emotional outbursts. Later on, they might struggle in school or with the law.

"Jake is a perfect example of someone who can't handle it when things don't go his way. He snaps and lashes out physically. Put alcohol into him and anything can happen."

"Isn't that finding an excuse for poor behavior?" I ask, prickling at the mention of his name.

She stares as if I've crossed some unspoken line. "It's more a reason than an excuse. The woman who looked after Jake had three children of her own, and she took in five more. How could you possibly give eight little kids the time they deserve to develop soundly, especially when you have no training? He was already out of control by the time he started school, and he's been in trouble ever since. That was fifteen years ago, Edward, and the system hasn't changed."

"Why did you go out with him then?"

Sighing, she answers, "I was rebelling against Dad at the time and interested in why Jake was like that. I thought I could help him, fix him even."

"It didn't work?"

She looks at me like the answer should be obvious. "No, but I learned things, and I won't be the one who's responsible for putting him in jail if he breaks probation. That's why I didn't want to call security that night."

This explains the look Bella's father gave the boy in front of their home, and why she chose to leave the graduation dinner. For my own sanity, I still need to know more.

"Have you recently broken up?"

"No, it was over a year ago." She huffs as if she's angry with me now. "Look, Edward, I don't want to talk about him anymore. I am sorry I brought up his name. He just thought he was getting a last fling before I went away. That's it."

She's wrong If she thinks that's a final statement because the hair at the back of my neck just stood up. "Why did he think that?"

When I glance over, she's glaring at me. "Because I had to ask a mutual friend who lives nearby to give me a ride to the dinner. Please, can we stop?"

I won't push this any further because I can see I'm partly to blame now. It's the first time she's been cross with me, and I feel like I'm going to pout. Then she turns things around by sliding her hand across my shoulder and letting her fingers scratch into my hair.

"I want to talk about you, handsome. Have you achieved everything you had to this week?"

Pleased, I tell her I've had a very proactive week: seeing two orchestras, spending hours on the Internet, working on the arrangement of several songs I found during my research, and writing some piano pieces for others. She sits there watching me and listening, and then she looks at me smugly.

"What?" I ask, as we finally take the exit for the city.

"I love your jaw," she says, running her finger down to my chin. "And your eyelashes."

"You had better stop that. We'll be there soon."

"Okay." Huffing out a disappointed breath, she sits back in her seat and behaves herself. "But I get you to myself when they go."

"You have something in mind?" _I can think of plenty of things._

"Uh, huh," she says with a provocative smile.

_This girl__... __filling my head with possibilities._

As we pull in, I hear a soft squeal. "I haven't been to your place since the weekend of the wedding. Remember the kiss we had right here?"

It's easy to replay the kiss that got us into trouble in the first place. "Yes, I do. You brought me here under false pretenses, Miss Swan."

"That was a great kiss. Let's have another one." The sweet hopeful way she looks at me makes me melt, and I lean towards her, letting her lead for once. Her tongue immediately captures mine and I close my eyes, lost in her again, as her arms surround me. Time stands still until the sound of a horn behind us brings back reality, and I give her one final kiss before I punch in the code.

It's just as well we're interrupted because this erection has to calm down before we go upstairs, and she laughs when I warn her to keep away from me in the elevator. It definitely feels like it takes longer than usual to reach the top floor as we stand there, smirking at each other.

When the doors open, Bella really looks around this time, taking in the apartment and getting her bearings. She smiles at me, then lets me take her hand and lead her in.

Bella hasn't formally met the band, and it feels great to introduce her as my girlfriend. When Alice asks us all to follow her, Bella holds me back for a kiss and we don't stop until Emmett emerges with a plate piled with food.

In the kitchen, an ice bucket holds a selection of beer, and Alice pours wine as we help ourselves to the buffet. Alice does expensive informality so well.

I know she had nothing to do with any preparation because the delivery was taking place as I was leaving, but I show her my approval when I try a thin slice of steak that melts in my mouth. We load up our plates and take ourselves to the beautifully laid table where we catch up on what's been happening over the last few days.

"Oh my gosh, Alice," Bella says loudly. "These scallops are incredible."

"Thank you," Alice replies smugly, as if she seared them herself, and she winks at Bella who smiles back at her.

After dinner, we settle in the living room where the piano is close, and I can use the TV to show everyone what I'm proposing. I'm suddenly aware that there are four couples here, and I'm part of one of them.

"So, let's get to it. I have concerts here in Chicago starting the end of September. I've seen the orchestra and I'm not that impressed. Playing with you perfectionists has made me very critical."

They chuckle, and I give them time to take in the compliment I mean very sincerely.

"I want you all involved in the concert. If you agree, I'm sacking the existing orchestra and hiring the new ones I've seen this week."

This doesn't faze the band at all. As session musicians, they're ready for anything.

"The first two concerts are sold out, and Garrett will have to manage that side of things. If he wants me to go on radio and TV to promote it, I will. There will be a classical piano component in the show, but everything else I've chosen is jazz."

"What _have_ you chosen?" Carlisle asks, looking wary but intrigued.

"Well," I answer, taking a deep breath. "Let me set the scene. I see the three of you on a darkened stage as the audience is settling, tuning up, a pinpoint spotlight on each of you."

Glancing at Rose, I catch a fading smile on her face, and she suddenly sits back. Is she feeling left out already?

"Then I'll come on stage as normal and sit down to play. You'll hold your instruments as if you are ready for my cue, but I'll start playing something soaring like Chopin's "Fantasie Impromptu" or "Arabesque" and you'll have to wait. After a few minutes, you'll start to get bored with me, talking, re-tuning, looking at your watches. I want a sort of Vaudeville feel about it, as if I'm about to react to you all being rude.

"Then I want Rose to enter, making noise, eventually stopping me from playing, maybe saying something like, 'Enough,' and I'll look at the audience in dismay and respond with, 'That's my cousin.' It doesn't have to be that exactly, but you know what I'm getting at."

Rose's deep chuckle tells me _she_ knows. The others are smirking, but they wait for me to go on.

"I've been researching big voices and songs that have been forgotten. I want to bring them back with Mister Lonesome's spin on them. We'll use the Green Mill and City Winery to test them on the audiences."

I hit the play button on the incredible slide show Alice has put together for me, and images of Eydie Gorme from the sixties fill the screen as her version of "After You're Gone" plays. She stood out during my week of research because of her huge body of work and the fact I had never heard of her before. She's been lost among other great female talent from the same era.

"Are you hiring a jazz orchestra?" Emmett asks, slightly confused.

Nodding, I answer, "No big band sound, though, and I don't want Rose to belt it out either. With her voice, she doesn't need to. I also found another small chamber group with six violins."

"Two separate orchestras?"

"Yes."

The next section is the first minute of Dave Brubeck's "Take Five" and then John Coltrane's version of Rogers and Hammerstein's "These Are a Few of My Favorite Things."

"I want to combine these two songs."

"I get it. That will work," Emmett agrees, nodding to the beat. He sits back with his arm around Rose who is smiling, obviously seeing herself singing.

We go through many more songs to show my idea for a variety type show. Everyone is impressed with Chick Corea's speedy classical style of playing jazz piano, especially on "Blue Bossa." If they didn't like him, I knew this wouldn't work. His talent inspires a lot of discussion, and by the way Jasper moves to the music, I know I've got him. He will have a big part in this number, but my plans are more elaborate.

Heads are bobbing to the beat with Chick Corea's "Return to Forever," and the Dave Brubeck version of "Stardust" goes down well too. They are full of ideas when we compare the Hank Mobley and Eydie Gorme versions of "Recado Bossa Nova."

"Does anyone have any ideas?" I ask, knowing they all grasp my concept and seem positive.

Bella is the last person I expect to contribute but the first one to say something. Quietly, she says a foreign sounding word in my ear. When I ask her to repeat it, she looks around as if she's suddenly uncomfortable, so I squeeze her hand and encourage her.

"You've got this bossa nova thing going on. Angela's mom is Brazilian and she loves this kind of music. She plays the songs on these little records on an actual record player. 'Desafinado' has been her favorite for as long as I can remember, and she never forgets to explain that it means 'out of tune' in Portuguese. You might know it though."

We look at each other and shake our heads, wondering what she's come up with, but Alice has it on her phone, playing it through my speakers before we can blink.

"Oh, yeah." Emmett moves his hands as if he's already playing his drums.

It's a samba with a very cool percussion introduction. I definitely recognize it, but I'm not sure from where, and it's crying out for a piano section. When I see the way the others move to the music, I know it's a winner. I ask Alice to start it again, and I jump on the piano, improvising, calling Bella over to sit with me.

Carlisle gets Esme up, and they dance a very close samba together. Esme's laughter is a gorgeous accompaniment to the song, and I see how in love they still are. Bella watches them with a smile on her face and sways to the music on the stool next to me.

"It's great. It's perfect, baby," I say to her, kissing her in front of everyone. She sticks her tongue out between her teeth as she smiles at me.

Alice is playing the track from YouTube, and the song flips into a playlist. The next song has a piano intro that's okay, but I know from my research that you need to give a song a full minute before you can make a decision. When the sax slices into the track, it changes everything. The sound is incredible.

"Man, that is sexy," Jasper says, and his eyes close as he absorbs the music.

"What is this?" Emmett asks.

"Eddie Harris," Alice answers, looking at her phone, moving to the music herself. "Exodus to Jazz."

"Jesus," Jasper adds, following the electric guitar with his hands. "I wanna play this."

Even Carlisle closes his eyes as he listens to the sax, holding his wife and dancing.

I do like the piano accompaniment, but we can do better. This song must be part of our repertoire whether it's in the concert or not. It's dynamite, and seven minutes later I'm disappointed it ends, replaced with lounge music, so I ask Alice to kill it.

"You know there's another one called 'One Note Samba?'" Bella asks, more confident now.

"I know that one," Rose pipes up, as Alice finds the track and plays it.

Winding my arms around Bella, I run my nose up her neck, taking in her rich scent as I enjoy the beautiful melody. When she cups my jaw and kisses me, it's long and building slowly until someone clears their throat.

"Well, we should go and pick up the kids," Esme says, smirking at me.

"Great stuff, Edward." Carlisle comes over and shakes my hand. "I'm looking forward to this."

The others stand to say goodbye, thanking me for dinner, making their own excuses to leave at the same time. As we walk them out, I ask everyone to listen to Chet Baker's _All Blues,_ and the very sexy _Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers_ album.

Rose hangs back and kisses me on the cheek, saying, "I love the concept and I think we're going to kill it, but what are we going to wear?" When I shrug, she hugs Bella and says, "I missed you, girl. You two are very cute together."

Emmett punches my arm and puts Jasper in a headlock as they leave. I thank Alice for everything as the doors open on the elevator and suddenly they are all gone.

"Blue tux," Bella says, wrapping her arms around me and kissing my neck.

"What about it?" I ask, squeezing her ass.

"That's what you should wear." She nibbles my ear, driving me insane. "You would look hot in a navy blue tux."

"I'll keep it in mind." I can't keep my eyes open any longer, or my hands off her tits. The way she's pushing her body against me, I want to fuck her right here, but this is my girlfriend, not some woman who's offered herself to me at a gig. I owe her some respect so, with a great deal of effort, I move back and ask if she's ready for a guided tour of the apartment.

"No. Shower first."

"Oh, of course, you came straight from work."

"You wanna come in with me?" she asks with devious eyes, her tongue emerging to taste her bottom lip. It should be a rhetorical question, but ever since the mishap with the cracked glass and an overly amorous woman, I haven't seen sex in the shower the same way. Slippery wet tiles just don't do it for me anymore.

Still, I nod and follow her, knowing I can move us out of the shower if I need to.

She strips very slowly, dropping her clothes on a chair. I mirror her, removing my own clothes, never taking my eyes off the show in front of me. Twisting her hair up in a loose bun, she offers her hand.

"Come on," she says, inviting me to join her.

The electricity in the air between us is palpable as we stand together naked in the shower. Bella lifts the showerhead off the wall and gets the temperature right before turning it on me. My skin tingles from her being so close with her eyes trained on the water running over me. I watch her throat as she gulps and then looks up into my eyes.

"Turn around," she directs me, and the water feels incredible cascading down my back. By the time she turns me again, I'm getting hard.

"Wet me," she purrs, handing me the showerhead.

With a couple of pumps of my body wash in her hands, she starts with my shoulders, letting her hands run slowly over my body, giving me a fine view of water running into cleavage. There's now a rod sticking up between us, and the tiniest smile crosses her face, but it doesn't deter her as she turns me away to start on my back.

Washing each other like this shouldn't feel like torture, but it does when I want her tits against my chest. Instead, she starts humming, and I recognize the tune as "One Note Samba." I wonder what's going on in her head.

I get my answer when she turns me around again and starts on my thighs, torturing me further. Moving up, she caresses my balls and then takes my dick in her hand, using a little more squeezing than washing. The eye contact tells me everything. Touching her hips, I feel my knees buckling and my hands automatically slide over her ass, pulling her closer.

She presses her palm to my chest and turns away, so I can wash her back. Fighting to control myself, I wash her the same way she dealt with me, but I don't wait for her to face me to get at her pussy. I feel her legs weaken as one hand explores down there while the other to reaches around to wash her tits. She gasps when my fingers slide inside her, but she soon grabs the showerhead to rinse us off.

I'm actually feeling hurt that she's not finding this as erotic as I am, but I won't be petulant. For all I know, she could be avoiding sex in the shower too. We have a giant bed and a whole weekend ahead of us after all.

She hangs up the showerhead, shuts off the water, then turns to me with a flicker of her eyebrow and a look in her eyes that tells me she's done it to me again. I've fallen into the trap of anticipating her.

_T__his girl__… __ I__'m ready for whatever she wants to do to me._

Her lips on my neck and the feel of her tits against me makes me growl. Surrounding me loosely with her arms, she moves down, licking at the water on my skin. Lapping at my chest, she spends time at my nipples and kisses a trail to my abs, moaning before dropping to her knees. Her eyes meet mine when she grabs hold of my dick, tasting the drops of water there before taking the head into her mouth.

I seriously thought she had no experience with blowjobs but she watches me and reacts to my expressions, the noises I make, the movements of my hips, deepthroating me and using her tongue exactly as I would ask her to do it. It's like she's reading my mind, bringing another fantasy to life in front of me.

The first words I speak during the entire shower are me warning her that I'm going to come. She stops and stands, leading me out of the shower and telling me she wants to fuck me.

Now it's me yanking the covers off the bed and she makes me sit down, straddling me and kissing me deeply as she sinks down on my dick. It's fucking heaven having her ride me like this with everything I want in front of me. Already knowing her body well, I make her come easily, pick her up and lie her down so I can thrust, fucking her until I lose my mind.

I just can't imagine how sex would ever get boring with this girl. She's something different every time we get together.

"You liked me going down on you, didn't you?" she asks, playing with my hair, and I groan just thinking about how good it was. "Because I've never done that before."

"Bullshit," I say with a laugh, unsure why she's even bothering with this game.

"Yeah, we were both doing research on the Internet this week. You were checking out music and I was Googling the male perspective on good blowjobs."

"What?" I crack up and roll us over. "Are you serious?"

"Yep," she answers and starts to giggle as I shake my head in amazement.

Later the same night, we get up for more food and end up dancing to the Art Blakey album. It turns into a make out session that rivals anything I've ever experienced with another woman. Maybe it's because I feel comfortable sharing myself with her now, but the connection continues to grow.

On Saturday, I have a private tour booked of the architecture of the city, and we follow it up with a cruise to show her Chicago at it's best, from the lake. The reasons I'm trying to show off my city are twofold. I want her to come to me on weekends since I'm playing Friday nights, and deep down I know I'll want her to move here after the job finishes at Christmas.

When the boat docks at Navy Pier, it's such a clear afternoon that we take a ride on the ferris wheel. After eating slices of pizza, we walk around the lakefront, hand in hand. In fact, I've hardly stopped touching her all day. She's been kissing me often and I'm beginning to love this physical intimacy. I still haven't made the big declaration in words since I came to the realization that I'm in love with her, but I think she must already know. The right moment will come, when I'm ready, eventually. It's a big step for someone like me.

Sunday morning we're having a lazy brunch at The Signature Room with Rose and Emmett. If Saturday's sightseeing hasn't impressed Bella enough, this will for sure. The views are spectacular from the 95th floor of the John Hancock Center and the food is always excellent.

I'm working on living in the moment and not thinking about her leaving today when I see Rose and Emmett, waiting to come in. Behind them are my parents.

Immediately I look at the four chairs at the table and wonder what setup this is. I'm actually furious.

"What's wrong?" Bella asks, noticing the change in me.

"Rose has brought my parents with her," I answer, keeping my eyes on them.

"Oh, that's great. I wondered when I would meet them," she says innocently.

I don't want them here. I don't want them tainting this relationship with their arguing and jabs at each other when Bella's family is so nice and normal. They bring memories of an unhappy past that doesn't fit with me finally in love.

Mom waves to me and I see Dad touch the small of her back as they cross the restaurant toward us.

"Fuck," I say to myself. They are obviously in one of their "back together" periods. Mom's had work done on her face. It's obvious in her eyes and her lips.

I stand as I always do to show them the respect they drilled into me, and Dad shakes my hand. It's been ages since I've seen them and Mom hugs me.

"So, this is Bella," Mom says, looking at Bella with curiosity.

"Yes, I'm Bella! Hi there." Bella stands and smiles at them as if she doesn't remember how sad she was when I told her what growing up with these two was like. "Are you joining us for brunch?"

Rose smirks at me, and I'm ready to kill her. "We ran into each other, and when I told them we were meeting you and your new girlfriend…"

Mom finishes Rose's sentence. "We just had to come up and see for ourselves."

Great. Are all the women I know conspiring against me?

Dad says, "Well, I guess we could stay," and he beckons a staff member to join two tables together.

When we arrived here, I was famished and now I have no appetite. I watch my father being attentive to Mom, serving her food from the buffet, putting his arm around her, and smiling. I've honestly never seen him so happy before, but I only see something temporary. Next week they'll be at each other's throats again.

Maybe that's what will happen to me.

Bella draws circles on my wrist, sensing my mood. "They're not you, just as my parents are not me. We make our own future. Do you know I've loved you for so long, I can't imagine a future where I wouldn't love you?"

I touch her hair as I look into her eyes, seeing the sincerity and wisdom that's Bella, and she's right. We make our own choices and we can't live our lives based on what anyone else thinks or does. So petite, she still eclipses the view behind her, shining in front of me, and I know the right time to tell her how I feel is now.

"I love you baby, so much."

"I know," she says kissing me gently.

_Am I surprised by this response? Not a bit. This girl's honesty and empathy is all I'll ever need._

_._

_**Thanks for reading. Feedback is good, so leave me a review.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Each time I post, I look through the chapter and see that the words are not that much different but they're SO much better because of three great chicks who give up their time to help me. ****Nic, VampyreGirl86 and Hadley are all in here in one way or another. I thank you ladies and I love you.**

**Disclaimer**: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

_**Edward**_

My father is unnecessarily rude to the server, and there's an uncomfortable silence at our table. Bella has been staring out the window, running a hand across my shoulders, when she decides to break the ice.

"So, are you coming to one of the concerts?" she asks my parents enthusiastically. She has no idea of the response that awaits her perfectly innocent question.

Mom opens her mouth to answer. Dad turns to silence her. Always one for formality, he puts his knife and fork down and presses his napkin to his lips before answering. "I'm not a fan of that kind of music."

Bella looks around the table as if she is the only one not in on the secret.

"You mean classical music?"

He shrugs his shoulders, and she thinks she has him when she flicks her eyes at me. "Well, this show is completely different. There's jazz and blues and bossa nova. It's going to be amazing."

"I think we're busy."

He's such a hard bastard. How can he not be affected by the sweet optimism that emanates from this girl? Rose clears her throat softly. Bella doesn't recognize his comment for what it was, the end of the conversation.

"It goes for two whole weeks. Edward can get you free tickets, can't you?" she asks, her eyebrows raised as she looks at me.

Before I can answer, he says, "I have golf in the afternoons, and then there's the club. I don't think we can fit it in."

"But… it's Edward." I see the confusion on her forehead. In her world, this kind of thing doesn't make sense.

"It's going to be very difficult," he says with finality. Mom has her eyes cast down, still silent and obviously embarrassed.

I can't stand it. "Just say the night, and I'll have your names at the door."

"That won't be necessary. I can certainly afford the tickets."

_It's not about the money, you prick. Sanctimonious, fucking..._

The piercing sound of Emmett's knife hitting the plate is followed by his timid apology, and then everyone looks at me, waiting for my response.

"I know that, Sir, but the offer is there if you change your mind. Anytime."

"Hmm, well, I don't think we'll be there."

Rubbing my hands over my knees in frustration, I feel like a helpless teenager again. Bella downs a whole glass of juice and heads toward the buffet, perusing the selection. She glances at me and I know she is fuming, putting distance between herself and my father. When she comes back to the table, she covers her anger with a forced smile, showing me her yogurt and granola parfait.

Proud of her, I plant a hand on her thigh and nudge her with my side. Rose takes over the conversation after that, and my parents don't stay long once they finish their food. She escorts them to the elevator and then comes back, sighing as she sits down.

"I'm sorry, Edward. When we saw them downstairs, your mother was eager to come up. I didn't…"

Bella interrupts. "I still don't understand. Why _aren't_ they coming to your show?"

"Don't waste your time, baby. He's not interested."

"But you're his son. Your mother taught you to play."

I try to convey with my eyes that the rules of civility don't apply to the man.

"He's a piece of work, Edward," Emmett offers, his eyes only darting to me for a moment before he takes in the view. I can tell he is agitated.

"They didn't pay either," Rose adds.

My parents' intrusion puts a damper on what was supposed to be a fun day of amazing views of the city. We still go up to North Avenue Beach where I thought Bella would get a kick out of the building designed to look like an ocean liner rising out of the sand. Instead, she only squints at it, still deep in thought, and suggests we go for a walk. Once we are away from the crowds, she asks if we can sit down in the sand.

"Why is your father like that?"

I don't want him ruining the day, so I look out at the water, hoping she won't pursue the question.

"Please tell me." Her hand rubbing over my shoulders is more powerful than her words, and I give in. I guess she does need to understand him to understand me.

"My father was orphaned as a child. He spent years in different foster care homes, never embracing them as his own, so no one ever adopted him. He worked hard and he was smart, getting a scholarship to do law at a college here in Chicago. I heard he never went back to visit the people who had looked after him.

"He was trying to make partner when he met Mom. I don't know if he ever really loved her, but she was young and beautiful, and he needed a wife. They were married for a fair while before they had me. I think he allowed it as a distraction for her because he was never around. She channeled all her energy into making me into something he could be proud of, but he was never impressed by my success with the piano.

"I think he might have been different if I'd shown any interest in becoming a lawyer because he did try to persuade me to give up piano and hit the books. It was one of the only times I saw Mom stand up to him. After he lost that battle, his indiscretions were more open, and it shattered her confidence, so she agreed to a divorce that neither of them was ready to deal with.

"When he moved out, she began to withdraw from me emotionally. We'd do our lessons together and then she'd disappear. She cooked my dinner, but she never ate with me. I always thought she went to him, but I never asked her directly. For a while, I blamed myself for coming between them, and I still believe they should never have introduced me into their love/hate relationship."

Bella lifts her chin from her knees and frowns."Oh, Edward, please don't." She shakes her head at me, but I need to keep going.

"Somehow, they made up and married again. I think he paid my tuition to Juilliard to get rid of me so she would concentrate on him.

"But nothing ever changes. He pulls away, and then he comes back. She told me once that she puts up with it because she has nothing else. It's obvious to me that she's had work done on her face to make her look younger, so you can be sure he's been unfaithful again."

Just saying this aloud makes me feel empty inside, and I sigh before continuing. "The effect it's had on me is pretty sad really." I cup Bella's cheek and see concern in her eyes. "I never wanted a relationship with a woman until I met you.

"I know it's hard for someone like you to understand, but I cannot be a loving son to either of them. Would I have preferred it was different? Of course, but it isn't."

She runs her fingers through my hair and says, "We can't choose our families, and there's no such thing as a perfect one. You amaze me, though, because if they've damaged you, you hide it well. You're not like either of them."

"That's a good thing, baby."

"One day he will admire how strong you are and how much you've achieved on your own."

"Doubtful."

Standing, she brushes the sand off her slacks and says, "Give up that past, Edward. It has no bearing on your future." She puts her hand out and pulls me up, suddenly playful. "Come on, take me home, and give me that guided tour. There are rooms we've missed, handsome."

_This girl… with a flick of her eyebrow, she can make me forget anything._

* * *

Garrett tells me I need to come up with a new name for the show. I already have one. When he finds out I've chosen "Little Girl Blue," he doesn't question it because he knows its significance.

Along with our gigs at City Winery, we have Friday nights at the Green Mill to fit into rehearsals. Then Garrett manages to secure us a spot in the lineup for the Chicago Jazz Festival, so Bella and I strike a deal. She will come to Chicago for four weekends straight, and then I'll go to Indy.

The band and I have so much to get through that, without these planned visits, I know I'd be asking them to work seven days a week. Instead, our Monday morning rehearsals are our most productive since everyone is refreshed.

Bella needs space to become an independent adult without me butting in and giving her advice, and she's settling in to her new city very nicely on her own. Occasionally, an unfamiliar name will appear in a message or call, a new friend or colleague she is helping in some way. Her big heart continues to attract me, even more than her mischievous sexuality, or her firing up about the things she finds important. I often look at her and wonder what I did to deserve her.

Little Miss Independent stamps her authority on me once again when she refuses to let me pick her up from the airport, quoting that takes only thirty-nine minutes if she comes on the "L" into Clark/Lake Station. She even instructs me on the quickest way to drive from the apartment to collect her.

I try to argue, but she will not budge, telling me that arriving at the gig on time is the thing that's important. I eventually give in, agreeing that she's saving me nearly three hours in traffic.

The Chicago Jazz Festival becomes our main focus. When we discuss the tracks we'll perform, everyone suddenly has an opinion, and I sit back to watch them lobby for their favorites to be part of the set. I like this. Their passion shows they're no longer just session musicians.

One thing is obvious. We're all crazy for Eddie Harris and Les McCann, so we decide on a medley of their songs where Rose will sing on one of them and improvise elsewhere as she wants.

Everyone accepts that our new version of "Blue Bossa" has to be on the list. We also agree to stick with our usual opening number, "Jubilation," rewritten to include saxophone. It's such an upbeat fun track that it should make the audience take notice of us.

We take Emmett on a shopping excursion to try out the different contraptions he wants to add to the drum set. We buy colored jam blocks, cowbells, jingles that sit on the cymbals, and a very cool mini drum that makes a sound like a conga.

Knowing that we're never going to write lyrics to go with someone else's instrumental track, Rose announces that she wants to play an instrument. Emmett assures me he can teach her to play the fruit maracas and an authentic wooden guiro with a stick used to drag along its ribbed sides. It feels like we're turning into a Latino band, but when I hear him play with these screwed-on additions, I'm amazed I ever doubted him.

In a night of self-doubt, I take a serious look at the original music we are using in the set, trying to decide if it's worthy enough to accompany these jazz standards we've selected. My pieces have become a melting pot of influences over the weeks, but one thing remains. All the piano sections are still based on my classical training.

To pull myself out of it, I play Nina Simone's debut album, _Little Girl Blue_. It was the catalyst that started this journey. When I first heard her pairing classical pieces with her own version of known jazz songs, it was like I recognized myself. With a smile, I think about meeting a young brunette and an ultimatum from my pushy agent that made me realize the dream. I make a decision to include tracks from the album in both concerts.

* * *

Bella is overwhelmed when we arrive at Millenium Park. The spot is for an hour starting at 2 pm, and we're playing at the Jay Pritzker Pavilion, a masterpiece with its dramatic peeled-back metal shells. Rows of fixed seating hug the stage in front of a vast lawn packed with fold-up chairs and picnic blankets. The whole thing is covered by a massive trellis housing loudspeakers, so the quality of sound goes way back into the crowd.

It's a free concert, giving us a new audience of families and people who travel to Chicago for the event. I played here before on a night three years ago, as a guest of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, when the audience was in the hundreds. Today we can still see patches of grass here and there, but there are thousands of people in front of us, enjoying the Labor Day Weekend.

Surprisingly, I manage to squash the nerves and use the vibrancy of our upbeat "Jubilation," even though there are cameras moving about the stage. It may have something to do with Bella's happy face in the wings facing me. Carlisle starts to dance with his saxaphone, and Jasper laughs in appreciation.

We follow "Blue Bossa" with Nina Simone's "Love Me or Leave Me," and Rose's voice is amazing. She smiles at me, encouraging me as I play the original music for the song.

When the audience applauds, I glance at Bella who is beaming at me. I'm full of energy as we start the medley: "Cold Duck Time," "Compared To What," and "Listen Here." It's like we've played together for years, admiring each other's skill and bouncing off each other, even improvising as we go. This is what it's all about. This is real joy.

Emmett's drum kit sounds incredible, and Rose proves she can handle her Latin percussion instruments as she moves around the stage, giving us all a share of her attention when she's not at the microphone. The applause at the end is surprising and full of whistles as we leave the stage. Bella is jumping up and down clapping, and as I look out over the audience one last time, there's not a blade of grass to be seen now. I'm so elated I pick her up and spin her around.

"So good," she squeals as she hugs me.

We return the instruments to the truck and decide to come back in to watch the next act. As we walk toward the grass, a man approaches and says he has someone who would like to meet us. Fuck me if Les McCann wasn't in the audience. He's eighty this year, but his eyes sparkle with life. He compliments us, and we fan all over him, telling him how much he's influenced us. It's only five minutes with a great, but we float away from the meeting, hardly believing it happened.

I don't know how she does it, but Alice gets us a table for dinner at "Girl and the Goat." I'm not sure they'll ever have us back because we've all been very loud and blatantly amorous with our women, and we're drunk when we leave. Even Garrett and Kate are happy to join us, quite relaxed with Rose at the table.

The next morning, Alice calls and reads me a review where they are calling Mister Lonesome Chicago's newest "jazz injection" band. I am so full of myself that I have to return to bed and brag to my girlfriend, who lets me make love to her, even though we're both hung over.

Life is good.

Bella and I have some fantastic nights out in Chicago, a highlight being Second City, a great improv comedy place where I'm looking for inspiration for our show. On the way out, we're met by a series of camera flashes that continue as we wait for a cab.

All I want to do is protect Bella. I've always detested this kind of intrusion when I was leaving a concert with a woman, but Bella has grown up in a world where celebrity lives play out in images on the Internet. She tells me that looking surly only creates speculation and more interest and, since we're not hiding anything, we should smile, even pose for the shot.

She doesn't factor in the amount of information these people can obtain to fill the story that goes with the image, not only about our relationship, but about who _she_ is. After that, she never encourages a photographer again, and I'm livid when I find out the vultures are taking photos of her in Indianapolis. She tries to calm me down by saying they never approach her, but I wonder how long it will be before a reporter tries to intimidate her.

The interest in us continues to build, and the interview I record for _Good Day Chicago_ is one minute of questions about the show and the rest about Bella and me. Garrett warned me to expect this, and I'm very careful with my answers, giving them nothing they don't already know. We still sell out another five dates that week and the Green Mill is packed.

With Bella's birthday coming up, I'm running out of time to find the perfect gift. Everything I've suggested has met the same response, "I don't really have anywhere to put it."

_This girl… she continues to challenge me with logic._

Alice makes a good suggestion, a trip to the zoo via the nearby boutique shops in Lincoln Park. I watch Bella closely in the hope that I'll see something catch her eye, but she only browses and gives me nothing. Eventually, I give up and take her to the zoo. She's surprised and impressed that this zoo is free, and the baby gorilla called "Bella" totally enchants her.

"What am I going to get her for her birthday?" I ask Rose, in the hope she can help with my dilemma.

"Can't think of a single thing? Come on, Edward."

"I've got twenty things on the list, but she won't let me give her anything."

Rose ponders for a while before responding. "Well… don't give her a 'thing.' Give of yourself."

"What exactly does that mean?"

She rolls her eyes at me, as if I'm clueless.

"You said the big deal was you picking her up for the date. Drive her home to Lafayette, get to know the family, find out who she is, take her on another date, and make her feel special."

"I do know who she is, and I always try to make her feel special."

"It's not about _you_, Edward. Think about it." She sighs and walks away with her coffee.

I do think about it, and the idea grows on me because Bella's family is important to her. While her parents have visited her in Indianapolis, she hasn't been home yet. There are no plans that I know of for her birthday so, slightly nervous, I call the home number and speak to Renee, asking if they would like for me to bring Bella home that weekend.

"_We'd love that,"_ she answers, and I hear the smile in her voice. When I tell her I would be honored to take everyone out to a restaurant, Renee won't hear of it, saying it would be much easier to do something at home. I ask her not to go to a lot of trouble, and she just answers, _"She's my daughter."_ The words strike at my heart, and I can't respond. Bella is just as important to her family as she is to me. I will have to do my best to share her with them and show them I'm worthy.

"_Surprise her, Edward. She loves surprises. Just keep us in the loop so we know what to say when she calls."_ I do believe Bella's love of surprises comes directly from the enthusiasm of her young mother. It occurs to me that I could be six years older and have a nearly twenty-two-year-old daughter. It's mind boggling.

Actually, I am looking forward to spending more time with Renee and Marie, and I definitely need to find out where I stand with Charlie. He's the nut I have to crack, and so far, I'm not sure if he'll accept me.

When the perfect gift pops into my head, I don't know why it wasn't obvious before. I just have to make it happen in time. Alice will help me on this one.

My vision comes to life as rehearsals begin with the inclusion of the jazz orchestra. They're a bunch of jokers, having played together since their high school ensemble. Still in their twenties, Sam, Brady and Quil are wonderful trumpet players, Embry plays trombone, and Paul the clarinet. Leah is the only female, a tiny girl with a set of lungs that can make the cleanest sounds come out of an oboe. Jared plays a double bass, and he's a huge man who stands even taller than the massive instrument. He frees up Jasper to play electric guitar on the pieces we've worked on.

They clown around a lot and keep us in stitches, but when it's time to play, they're just as focused and prepared as they were when I first saw them.

Carlisle mentors the group, showing the finesse he wants by way of playing a trumpet of his own, which he arrives with one day, completely unannounced. He plays a very decent trumpet himself and it helps that he's taking responsibility for the brass section's sound. Rose is crazy about the way they accompany her voice, saying she wishes we could use them at the gigs.

I can't wait until she hears how everything will soar when the violin players arrive this week. They have a very specific job to do, creating background drama. These six people are possibly the quietest, most nerdy-looking violinists I've ever seen, but they play so tightly as one that I had to have them. They are going to transform our version of "Exodus" into something very special.

Maybe Alice can work her magic when she dresses them in their blue tuxes. Bella's idea met with resounding approval, especially as a way to tie us all together. The women are wearing a female version, but Rose will change a couple of times into something elaborate and diva-ish. I'm keeping out of that.

Rose plays us a YouTube video of a young Peggy Lee singing a number called, "You Was Right Baby." It's an incredibly sexy song that none of us has ever heard before. Fitting our theme so perfectly, we start to work on it and soon include it in our final list of songs for the show.

Garrett reports that there's been no backlash regarding the change in concert and he's happy with the ticket sales. There are posters all over Chicago now, showing a very cool 50's style image he had taken of us all rehearsing.

We record and film a night at the Green Mill. Garrett wants to take advantage of the big crowds and sell the DVD at the concerts. I tell him I'm not ready to include "Whisper" because I'm not finished with it. As the only song I've written words for, I don't think it belongs with the other tracks and I want it to stand on its own.

During one of his visits, Garrett is openly complimentary about how everything is sounding, and he asks if he can see me privately.

"I just thought I'd tell you that I'm not worried about Bella anymore." This sounds promising. Is he sending out an olive branch after the weeks of jibes and refusals to see us privately on weekends? "She will quickly tire of this arrangement you two have. You can't possibly keep it up between Chicago and Indy."

He wipes the smile right off my face. I'm so sick of this. "How the fuck would you know what we can and can't do? And what business is it of yours anyway?" If I didn't have to worry about my hands, I'd hit him right now.

"I know you think she'll come to you eventually, but it won't happen, not with our family."

"What are you, the mafia?"

He narrows his eyes at me. The conversation is so ridiculous that I imagine the Swans and the Baker boys coming into the Green Mill with pin-striped suits and machine guns, dragging me away from the piano to my watery death in the Chicago River. Without thinking, I laugh at what's going on in my head.

"Listen to me," he shouts. "She's special, and I don't want to see her get hurt. They will never allow her to move in with you unless you marry her."

"Christ, Garrett. It's only been a couple of months."

"Leave him alone!" We both turn toward Rose, who is glaring at Garrett. Her teeth are locked together as if she's growling. "And give him a chance."

I like that Rose will come to my defense, but on this occasion, I hold up my hand to her.

"No, you listen to me, Garrett. I'm in love with Bella right now, and she's in love with me so you are going to butt out and let us try to have this relationship. If she gets hurt, it won't be because of something I've done. I'm going to make sure I do this right."

He looks at me, sizing me up, but I see the sag in his body when he gives in. Putting my hand out to shake is the only way I know I'll get a real agreement out of him. It's worked for us many times in the past and I hope we can put this to rest now. He looks into my eyes for a while and then extends his hand to connect with mine, but he's shaking his head.

"What?" I ask, feeling like this is not quite over.

"You have to win Charlie over now," he says, chuckling.

"Piece o' cake." Little does Garrett know, I have allies in place. He's underestimating the power of the women in his family.

* * *

**Your reviews have been incredibly encouraging this week and some of you will recognize where I've used your suggestions. Thank you for every piece of feedback you've sent. A few of you expressed interest in the jazz music so the links are now on my profile page.**

**xxx Compass**


	6. Chapter 6

**Nic, VampyreGirl86 and Hadley must be three of the busiest women I know. Whether it's reading, reviewing and promoting authors' work, or caring for babies and injuries, or beta'ing for countless others, they manage to find the time to fit me into their schedules. I thank you all so much for your help. Biggest smooches.**

**Disclaimer**: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

_**Edward**_

Finally, we come to the end of the gigs, and I fly to Indy where Bella is bouncing on the spot, waiting to meet me at the airport. It's a great surprise to see her there. After I'm finished kissing her, I tell her she's not playing fair when she won't allow me to do the same at O'Hare. She just smirks and says it's not the same.

_We'll see who comes out in front when I give her the birthday present. _

"Edward?" she asks with her sultry voice, rubbing my chest and nuzzling my neck in the back of a cab. "Do you care what we do tonight?"

It might be wishful thinking on my part, but it seems like she's going to suggest that we hit the sack and stay there. Of course, this is Bella. In her usual style, she confounds me by asking if I'd like to go swing dancing, telling me she's been taking lessons once a week. Her mother says that couples who dance together stay together. I can't argue with that sentiment, and it's another reason to like Renee. I became a fan of swing in New York, and I love to dance.

We change at her place and head to the Fountain Square Theatre where I go along with the group lesson because I'm out of practice. They only teach the basic steps, and Bella's not bad, though she needs to not worry so much about where her feet are.

"Let yourself bounce. Loosen up and let your hips lead you." She watches and starts to copy me, throwing her feet out with more abandon, her smile growing as we dip and sway around each other. Holding her to me, I dance us around and she throws her head back and laughs. When she looks at me again, her hand creeps around the back of my neck, and the dancing slows to a standstill as she kisses me.

Back to the dance lesson, I show her how I will hold her firmly with my thumbs pressed to the back of her hands, and then I swing her right out.

"Edward!" she squeals and comes to a stop.

"I won't let you go. I promise." All I can do is hold my hand out again.

"Okay." She takes both my hands, and we start again. This time, I swing her out and she's fully extended, beaming and confident. I pull her back and turn her so her back is against my chest.

Kissing her cheek, I say, "Thank you, baby, for trusting me."

Her arm comes up and circles my neck. "I love you, Edward. Of course I trust you."

I spin her out again and ask, "Who have you been dancing with anyway?"

"Mike, just an old friend from Lafayette."

"Who?" The hairs on the back of my neck feel like they're crawling, and I immediately stop dancing.

"Mike Newton. He's an ex-boyfriend, Edward, but he's trying to impress his new girl, so it kind of suits the two of us."

My initial reaction is to erupt and I'm not really sure why the feeling is so strong when she has never given me a reason not to trust her. I tell myself that unfounded jealousy serves no purpose except to erode the precious time I have with her now.

"Well, I'm glad it's someone you know." I lift her hand and spin her underneath, and then I duck under on the way back. When I look at her, she's smiling with her tongue between her teeth. It's her happiest mannerism and one I love to see come out. It's terribly cute.

The crowd pours into the theater and we give up dancing around 9:30, starving and worn out. Stopping outside at the fountain, I tell her what a great idea this was for a date. Our kisses become embarrassing, so we wander for a while, looking for somewhere to eat. Eventually, she leads me into a Greek place where we have dinner and laugh over some of the antics we witnessed on the dance floor.

"Did you hear that?" she asks, looking nervous. "Someone is taking photos."

Annoyed, I pay the bill, and we get out of there.

When we get home, she wants to dance again. As she starts her playlist, I smile at her and ask if this is the original. She's chosen Elvis Presley's "Bossa Nova Baby," and she is shimmying her shoulders. I grab her and laugh, pulling her close, careful we don't move too far and fall over the couch or the bed. When the sensual rhythm of Sarah Vaughan singing "September in the Rain" turns the dance into a slow strip of our clothing, Bella is tender and unhurried. The way she touches me is smooth, like she's worshiping my skin. Neither of us rushes toward intercourse, and by the time we hit the bed, I'm all sensation, inside and out.

_Jesus, I seriously must take this girl dancing all the time._

On Saturday, she wants to show me an historic jazz bar she's found in the city. There's hardly anyone in there when we arrive, and as I'm ordering a second drink, I ask the owner if I can play their piano. I want to see how she likes the change I've made to "Whisper," with the long piano intro I've been constantly revising for the recording. She leans on the top of the piano as I test that it's tuned, and when I start to play, she looks down, listening intently. Gradually her expression changes into something I can't interpret.

"Bella, don't you like it?"

She looks at me with eyes vivid from tears. I'm overwhelmed, worried over what this reaction could mean. When she responds, her voice catches with emotion as she shakes her head.

"It's unbelievable. I love it."

"Come here." I extend my arm, and she sits in my lap, burying her face in my neck. When a flicker of movement catches my eye, I realize we had a small audience who are now moving away.

After a weekend of romance, I'm waiting for my flight back to Chicago, glad I stopped her from coming out to see me off. The urge to ask her to quit her job and move in with me is something I know I must fight… for now.

On the flight, I'm struggling to concentrate on the huge week we have ahead of us. I can't stop thinking about next weekend and what will happen if her father won't approve of me. The only way I can refocus my mind is to finish the words to the song that's been challenging me for weeks. I have Wednesday set aside to record it, and I already know what I want to say. On a scrap of paper, I pen the last two verses and a final chorus for "Whisper." Reading it over, I know that this simple song will tell Bella how I feel more than anything I can say.

* * *

The feeling of elation I have on Friday is incredible. The rehearsal has gone so well that I don't want to change a thing. Since we started using the personalities on stage to dictate the physical interactions between us, the level of collaboration has amazed me and cracked me up many times. We all agree to let Rose kiss Emmett passionately at the fade out to intermission.

Because I was unsure how much time the rehearsal would need, I told Bella I would drive down on Saturday morning. When we finish so quickly and I realize I have enough time to get there, I just say I am happy with everything and get ready to leave.

Rose kisses me and tells me to be myself and not try too hard. She knows I am still nervous about Charlie.

Carlisle stops me and presses me about including "Whisper" in the concert. Although I am extremely proud of what we've produced in the studio, I tell him I don't feel we have time to add a new song at this late stage. Not giving up, he tells me they will do some work on the piece before they leave tonight.

Driving to Indy, I keep thinking about the skinny box in my bag, personally gift wrapped by my PA. After the discussion with Carlisle, I now don't know whether I should wait and let Bella hear the song for the first time at the concert. I end up deciding to go with Bella's reaction after I give her the actual birthday present.

Alice has done me a solid this week, organizing the signed documents to arrive in plenty of time so I don't have to stress about it. She even lines up the deliveries with Renee, who has allowed us to take care of the food. I know the change in Alice is because of Bella and her influence on me. I also know that I wouldn't have been able to do all of this without her, so I surprise her with a big bonus before I go.

Now I'm heading towards another surprise, picking up Bella from work. Pulling up outside the daycare just before four, there's only one other car in the lot. I'm just getting out when she comes through the front door and stops in her tracks when she sees me. For a moment, it's as if she doesn't believe what she's seeing, and then she drops her stuff on the ground to envelope me in her arms.

There's no denying I'm loving how amorous she is when we reach her apartment. Renee was right when she told me that Bella loves surprises. Between kisses, she keeps saying how happy she is that I drove down early. I'm trying to tell her how well the rehearsal went, and she nods, but she's not listening as she peels my clothes off.

_Ah, well. I can tell her some other time._

I've been watching Bella since dawn when I finally see her coming out of deep sleep. I get up to start the coffee and hear her stretch, making sounds like a kitten. "What are we doing today?" she asks, her voice still full of sleep.

"You had better get up and pack a bag."

"I think you had better come back to bed," she purrs, running her hand over the sheet where I slept.

"As much as that sounds incredibly appealing, we have a lunch to attend at your parent's place. We're staying there tonight, and I'm taking you out on a date."

Her head pops up from the pillow, and her eyes are huge with surprise. "Really?"

I sit on the bed and hand her the coffee, moving back the riot of hair that I love. "Yeah, really. I thought it was time I got to know the family."

She puts the coffee down, and her arms come round my neck. "I don't think you realize how much I love you right now."

"I love you, too." I kiss her quickly and say, "Birthday weekend. Come on. Let's hit the road."

The drive up to Lafayette with the top down is invigorating. My girl is smiling while she plays with my hair, and the sun is warm without the biting heat of the summer. The weather is perfect. Bella squeals when we get out of the car and grab our bags. Renee opens the front door, and Bella beams at her mother, hugging her at the top of the steps. Renee even has a hug for me too and some welcoming words.

Charlie is on the couch watching baseball with his back to us. At first, I wonder how he'll acknowledge me, but he stands and looks at his daughter with pride and love. "Here she is." He swallows her up in his arms, kissing her hair, then looks at me and shakes my hand, saying, "Call me Charlie." I don't realize I've been holding my breath until I feel the relief.

Renee shows us to our separate rooms upstairs and hands me a fresh towel. I knew there would be no hanky panky under this roof, and I don't feel like there should be.

"Has the cake arrived?" I ask, looking forward to seeing the photo of Bella printed in the icing.

"Yes, it came earlier. So pretty. The drinks are already on ice outside."

We hear voices downstairs, and Marie smiles when she sees me on the stairs. "This is my husband, Marcus, my son, Harry, and his wife, Sue." Shaking everyone's hands, I start to commit names to memory. This party is only for immediate family but we catered for thirty, so I'm going to have to keep up. They're already giving Bella gifts, and she's so excited when she sees them, gushing over their contents and giving thanks with kisses.

Why is it she doesn't want gifts from me?

Bella heads back up the stairs with her presents, and Marcus joins Charlie on the couch for the baseball game. Harry follows Renee somewhere and I'm left to decide who I should join when a hand surrounds my upper arm, and Marie rescues me.

"I'm making the punch again, Edward. Do you think you can manage it with my guidance?"

"Absolutely," I answer, glad to have something to do. "I want to see the cake anyway."

The cake takes up a whole shelf of the fridge, and I have to take the box out to see it. I sent the image to Renee to show her, but Alice organized the cake's creation and delivery. This photo is my absolute favorite of Bella. I put the box back in and send a text to Alice, telling her it's perfect. She sends back a smiley face.

Now for the punch. I try my best to remember but I almost pour a large tin of passion fruit in before Marie stops me. "Too much," she says, stirring the huge jug and asking me to sample the mixture. It's good – just as refreshing as it was last time.

More people arrive, older cousins of Bella's with children of various ages, and some of the Swans. Everyone seems to know me, but I'm not keeping up with names now. Charlie puts on a country album, and while I wouldn't choose it, it goes well as background music for the big family gathering.

Organized chaos begins with the arrival of the food and another half dozen adults with more children. Renee ushers everyone outside while we place the trays of hot food in the oven and the cold ones disappear out the patio doors.

Then Charlie does something that makes me feel like everything is going to be okay. He hands me a whiskey, two fingers with a single ice cube. He has one himself and tips his glass to me, saying, "Thank you for doing this, Edward. Cheers."

"Are you two on the hard stuff already?" Bella asks. I haven't seen her for half an hour, and she has a child on her hip.

"Just sampling this fine whiskey Edward bought. Is that okay with you, birthday girl?"

"Definitely," she answers with a smile at me, heading outside.

"This means a lot to her mother. We don't get to see her much anymore," Charlie adds.

I suddenly feel terrible and apologize, saying I know I've been monopolizing her weekends lately.

"Uh, uh, uh, Edward," he shuts me down. "As long as she's happy and you're keeping her _safe_." He places some emphasis on that word "safe," running his fingers over his moustache and eyeballing me. Immediately, I think back to the conversation at the Green Mill where Bella was questioning Garrett about them having to get married.

He puts his arm around my shoulder and leads me outside, then he joins his brothers and brothers-in-law. There's quite a crowd of people now and I notice Marcus, sitting on his own, watching his big family. It looks like a good spot for me while I absorb it all.

"Can I get you something to eat, Sir?"

"Get away with your 'Sir.' Come and sit down and tell me about this concert of yours."

The man knows Eydie Gorme and much of the music we've chosen. Marie joins us with a couple of their older sons, one of whom I met at the house last time. It's so good to talk to people who were around when the music was popular. Marcus says, with some sadness, that they got rid of their record albums when they moved.

When I offer them tickets, they accept, some of them saying they are already coming at Garrett's invitation. It's so different from the reaction I got from my father. Well, fuck him. He's the one missing out. That's how I'm going to approach it from now on. I'll keep offering, and he can say no. _This _is how family should be, talking and catching up, enjoying the time they have together.

When the hot food comes out, there's a flurry of activity, and one of the small kids hits his head on the table and starts to bawl. Without thinking, I crouch down at his side, checking if he's okay. From that moment on, Liam is my shadow. He asks for food from my plate, talking up a storm, although I can't understand much of what he's saying. He's too young to join in the game of catch going on in the back yard, and I can't risk hurting my hands from a stray baseball, so he climbs into my lap and sucks his thumb. I'm trapped by a two-year-old.

I look up and see Bella smirking at me. "You look good like that," she says, pouring herself a punch. "Want one?" I nod, and she brings me a glass, kissing my cheek. No sooner have I finished the drink when the boy requests some, so she gets him a plastic cup half-full and he makes the most hideous noises as he gulps it down, finishing with a big gush of breath and a smile. What a kid.

"Cake, everyone!" Renee calls out, as she appears with the cake and twenty-two lit candles. Liam dumps me and runs over to see it. Somebody here should tell him to slow down before he has another accident. Bella's tongue comes out through the smile when we all sing "Happy Birthday." I make sure I get a photo of her like that and another of her blowing her candles out.

Marie is helping Renee serve the cake when Bella grabs my hand, taking me up the stairs to her room where she literally assaults me. "Did you have to wear that shirt and those jeans today?" she mumbles into my neck, and I smell the champagne. "It's torture when I can't have you tonight."

"Settle down, baby. This is a family affair."

I hear a little whine, and she asks, "Did you really provide all the food today?"

"Alice made a few calls for me. It was nothing."

"Oh, Edward, thank you. This is amazing."

I unwind her arms from around me, and she pouts as we leave the room.

"Hey, we're only fourteen years apart now," she says, skipping down the stairs.

"Yes, until next June, and don't you forget it."

No sooner do we come out the back door than Charlie wants me to have another drink with him. I notice they're well into the second bottle, and I look at Bella for guidance, who winks at me.

"Have a few drinks. I might join you. I don't really care if we go out tonight."

_Well, it's her birthday._

Since whiskey is my drink of choice, I can drink my share, and when the third bottle is opened, I'm just glad they're enjoying it properly without adding Coke or something to ruin it. Bella feels comfortable enough to sit in my lap with her champagne. She comes and goes, helping Renee and the aunties clear everything away while we men sit and drink.

Liam's family leaves and he has to high-five me when he goes. It takes him a few tries to make contact but the smile at the end is worth it.

The circle of people grows, and Bella tells everyone proudly that we went swing dancing last weekend. They start to reminisce about other occasions and make plans to meet up in Chicago for the concert. Charlie sees some of them off as it's getting dark and never returns. More food appears and I'm suddenly hungry again, getting a piece of birthday cake this time. I stop drinking after that, not wanting to crash like Charlie did.

By the time they all leave and we clean up, it's after ten, and I'm pleased when they suggest a movie. Unfortunately, I wake up as it's ending, and Renee is saying goodnight. As it's nearly midnight, I tell Bella I'll be right back and go upstairs to get the papers. I leave the CD in the bag, but grab some earphones just in case.

"Happy birthday, baby," I say with a grin, handing over the envelope. She thanks me and frowns, opening it up and reading, not really understanding what she has.

"What is it, Edward?"

"It's copyright. It assigns all royalties to you for the song called 'Whisper.' I don't know how much money you'll make, but Carlisle and Garrett think it's our best song."

She blinks a few times before she says, "I can't accept this."

_Of course she can't._ "The song wouldn't exist without you. Anyway, it's too late. We've already recorded it for you."

Now her eyes are sparkling. "You recorded it? Can I hear it?"

"I was wondering if you might ask me that. I've got it on my phone."

I plug in the earphone jack and find the recording, giving it to her ready to play. She kisses me first, then hesitates before putting the earphones in her ears and listening. The joy I feel as I watch her face is a gift for me I didn't anticipate. I see the moment when she hears the new verses as her face lights up, and I go over the words in my head.

"Don't give me those things  
Just give of yourself  
It's all I'll ever need  
All I'll ever want

I'm crazy for the real you  
So give up that meaningless past  
'Cause I'm your future  
Just as you're mine

She's so much more than that dream I had, that whisper  
And there will never be enough days to hold her  
Enough ways to show her  
She's my everything, my love, my life."

Bella's face screws up, and she starts to cry. It's not a single tear rolling down her cheek this time. This is like sobbing, and she sits astride me, almost choking me with her arms.

I notice movement in the kitchen and see Charlie drinking water. When he hears her, he comes out to see why she's crying.

He raises his eyebrows and asks, "Is she okay?"

I nod and answer the only way a man should. "I'm in love with her, Charlie."

"Yep, and she's sure in love with you," he responds with a touch of a smile and walks away with an arm in the air and fingers wiggling goodnight.

* * *

"Come on, you're embarrassing me now. It's not _that_ good," I plead, reaching for the stereo.

Bella pushes my fingers away and says, "I want more. Please?" grinning as the track starts again.

"Okay, but this is the last time we're playing it."

She puts her hand on my thigh and sits back in the car seat, looking somewhere past me, concentrating.

"It sounds different now."

"We've rearranged the beat."

"Yeah." Her face lights up in recognition. "How are you going to release it?"

"Itunes, I suppose. Garrett will handle it. He should have your best interests at heart."

"This is the best birthday present I've ever had," she says, squeezing my leg.

"I thought you didn't like presents."

"This is a really good one. Hey, turn here. That's the place, number ninety."

When Angela called to wish Bella happy birthday, Bella asked if this could be our date, to see Angela's new apartment. Ben meets us at the door, shaking my hand and saying he enjoyed seeing the Jazz Festival performance on YouTube. Bella charges past us and is already inserting the CD into their player. This will be the tenth time this morning I've heard it.

"Ang, listen to this!" she calls to her friend who appears from the hallway with arms out, and they squeal. "This is the song Edward recorded for my birthday." They stand there listening and Angela turns to smile at me with her arm around Bella.

When the song is over, there are some more squeals before Angela asks, "Are you kidding me? When can I buy this?"

"I don't know." Bella turns to me. "When can she buy it, Edward?"

"I'll have to ask Garrett. We only recorded it on Wednesday."

There's a lot of discussion about me and my career over lunch, and I feel like I'm taking the spotlight from Bella's birthday. I try to change the subject, but they keep asking more questions.

When I inquire if Ben is living here, he shakes his head vehemently, saying Angela comes from a Brazilian background and that she would shame her parents if that happened. They don't know how often he stays over, though, and he looks at Angela who winks at him.

I watch them and envy their freedom to manipulate their situation when the best I can do is get a couple of days a week with my girl. Garrett's words start to infiltrate my confidence. Bella could tire of this long distance relationship and want weekends with her family and friends. I don't know how I'll cope if she takes a job even further away, or worse, starts to pull back from me.

"Well, we have to love you and leave you. Edward has hours of driving ahead of him."

Angela whines, but she stands to embrace Bella, wishing her happy birthday again. I thank Ben as he shakes my hand and then gives Bella a quick hug.

"Don't be a stranger and tell me when the song comes online," Angela says, when they are finished hugging.

Bella touches her cheek to Angela's shoulder and sighs. "Will do," she responds, looking at her friend for a few seconds, and then we head out the door.

"You didn't tell them that you own the song, baby."

"Is that what I say, that I own it?"

"Well… yeah."

"Oh."

I note that she doesn't answer the question. "So, why didn't you tell them?"

She looks at me as I open the car door. "I… I don't want anyone to think I'm after your money."

I frown at her and say, "Come on."

"No, I mean it. I'd prefer it if this isn't public knowledge."

"Fair enough." I know that Bella would never say such a thing to hurt me intentionally, but my stomach feels like someone just kicked me there. Starting the engine, I try to cover my feelings by telling her I really like Angela and Ben. I don't know what else to say.

When we walk through the front door of the Swan residence, Charlie and Renee are waiting for us.

"Sit down, Bella," Charlie says seriously. "We want to talk to you about something before you leave."

Shit. Why don't I like the tone of this? Renee is leaning against the wall, and she gives me a little smile, but it doesn't help to calm me. Bella sits down on the couch as if she's worried too.

"We want you to take the car, just until you get settled work wise."

"The Lexus?" Bella frowns at him. "I don't think so."

"No, the Ford."

"What are you going to drive?"

"I have a new job heading up Internal Affairs, and it comes with a car. The cruiser is going back."

She smiles at him, but shakes her head. "Congratulations, Dad, but I don't really want a car yet."

"Well, on this occasion, I'm not giving you a choice. With these people following you around, I don't want you on foot."

The flick of her eyes at me tells me there's more to this than I thought.

"Is this still going on, Bella?" I ask her.

She sighs and glares at her father. "There is one particular photographer who's hanging around a little too much."

"Jesus." I shake my head, knowing this is my fault.

"He doesn't come up to me. I didn't want you to worry." Then she looks at her father and says, "I will take the car, Dad. Thank you. It will save Edward having to drive me back too." She looks at me cheerfully, as if she's doing me a favor, and I suddenly need to get out of here. I feel like an outsider.

"Well, I should get going then and leave you to have some time with your parents. I have a huge week ahead of me."

The smile leaves her face, and she follows me up the stairs.

"What's happening, Edward?" She looks panic-stricken.

"Why didn't you tell me you were still being followed?"

"We checked, and there's nothing you can do to stop them. He's a legit photographer from the Star."

"Oh great, that makes me feel so much better. When did you stop?"

"Stop what?"

"When did you stop being honest with me?" She blinks her eyes as if she doesn't comprehend. "You have this problem with people thinking you're a gold digger, but you don't let me know. You hide it by refusing my gifts. Now you don't tell me you're being followed?"

She takes my hand and squeezes it softly. "I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, but I think I will go," I say, smoothing her hair. "I'm tired, and I could use an early night."

Running her hand along my jaw, she kisses me, but it lacks emotion and it's over quickly.

We come down the stairs, where her parents thank me for everything I did, and they enthusiastically say they'll see me next weekend. I nod and tell them I enjoyed meeting everyone and that I will see them in Chicago. It's weird how normal this seems when I'm feeling like shit.

"Please don't be angry with me," Bella pleads, with her arm around me at the car.

"I'm not really. I don't know what's wrong with me." The truth is, I don't know. I don't have the skills to deal with whatever this is, so I peck Bella's cheek and leave, hoping the drive will clear my head so I can work it all out.

As soon as I hit the highway, I get that awful feeling again, like I'm making a mistake, so I call Rose for some counselling. I tell her everything from the moment I felt my confidence go, until my strained departure.

"_Maybe you should cool this relationship, Edward."_

"What? Fuck! No! I can't! That's not… No!" This is not the advice I expected from my cousin.

I hear her softly laughing at me. _"Calm down. I just wanted to hear what you'd say. Remember I asked if you were ready for this? It's not always going to be smooth sailing, but you've just had one hell of an overreaction. She said she doesn't want people to think she's after your money. Edward, you already know that she'd hate that. And as far as the photographer goes, I wouldn't tell you either, because you worry about nothing. Do they scare you?"_

"No, but I'm used to them."

"_But you're not used to them around her. Charlie knew, right?"_

"Yeah."

"_So he's dealing with it by providing her with a car temporarily. To me, he's doing exactly the right thing."_

I blow out a huge breath, and I feel much better. Thank God, I have Rose.

"_You must be really in love with her. Turn the car around and go back."_

"I'll seem like an idiot doing that, won't I?"

"_No, you absolutely won't. Trust me."_

It doesn't take long to drive back to the house. Before I can knock on the door, Renee opens it and says, "She's up in her room." I take the stairs two at a time and find Bella sitting on her bed crying, looking at her CD with her earphones in. She puts her arms up to me, wetting my cheek with her tears when I drop to my knees.

Neither of us says anything. We just hold each other for ages while she continues to cry, and I have to fight back tears of my own. If this is real love, then I want it. I want to feel this level of emotion, maybe not the way this afternoon happened, but I welcome feeling so alive.

* * *

**Lovely reviews this week! It was so wonderful to receive every one of them! Thank you also to all the new people who have favorited and are now following.**

**xxx Compass**


	7. Chapter 7

**There was a lot of "less is more" Nic in this chapter ****and VampyreGirl86 had to work through it without her painkillers. She does amazing work while medicated, but she doesn't remember it afterward.**** Hadley was on the white stuff out in Denver (I mean snow) but she still found time for me. Wow, you girls, how do you do it? Thanks a mill for your time and help.**

**Disclaimer**: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

_**Edward**_

It's opening night. We're sold out, and we're ready. We've only had access to the Park West Theater since this morning, but everything is in place.

This is not an elaborate show, but we have good people in charge of our control panels. The sound engineer we're using is the same man who recorded "Whisper." Our lighting guy has worked every venue in Chicago.

Alice is running the background show on three huge screens, images of the artists who performed the numbers. Most of the audience won't recognize them from the music, but we want them here with us in spirit, and it sets the mood for the show.

Garrett has been standing at the back, shouting out when something needs moving. He's been quite obsessive about the way everything looks.

We've all had haircuts, and I now have designer scruff. When the stylist ran her clippers over my week's growth, she suggested I keep it, and both Alice and Rose, who were hovering around at the time, agreed.

Carlisle and Jasper still look the same, but Emmett now has a touch of blond in his hair. The members of the jazz orchestra have all gone very short; even Leah is sporting a shorter style. The violinists – well, they were never hired to look pretty. Rose has only had her hair done today, while supposedly resting her vocal chords at a spa in the city.

With a deep breath, I button my blue tux with its skinny satin lapels. I've had one whiskey, and I'm still slightly nervous as I wait to go on stage, but I think I'm going to be worse tomorrow night when Bella's family is in the audience. Bella is coming up with Charlie and Renee in the morning, and I'm now glad they weren't here for opening night.

The others are tuning up in semi-darkness, and this is my cue to come out. As I finish my neck warm ups and flick my fingers, Rose comes up to me and says, "Knock 'em dead, Edward."

"See you soon." She smiles, and we quickly hug before I leave her to walk out to a quiet round of applause. I nod, as I usually do when I'm playing a classical piece, and sit down to get comfortable. Jasper and Carlisle pick up their instruments, ready to start. Emmett is already twirling his sticks.

A black and white image appears, repeated on the three screens. It's a photo taken during the 1960 movie of the ship, "Exodus," arriving in Palestine, overflowing with Holocaust survivors, while thousands more welcome them from the dock.

Leah begins, playing the first bars of the traditional version of "Exodus," and then the violins take over, playing a much longer section. They're perfect.

The boys look at each other and lower their instruments, as if they've been forgotten, and I join in to play. The piece I've written is reminiscent of the Eddie Harris introduction, but mine rolls up and down the keyboard with more layers. Then the brass section comes in as one, playing smoothly and softly.

Emmett drops his sticks on the drum and gets up to mutter to the other two. We continue to play as if we haven't noticed. The audience does, however, and I see them fidget uncomfortably, unsure if this is supposed to happen.

Emmett walks off stage, shaking his head, and returns with Rose in tow. She walks into the light, revealing the incredible gloss in her hair, and stands looking at me with her hands on her hips.

I look up and raise my eyebrows, but keep playing, watching her take a deep breath. The audience is so focused on us that they don't notice the others pick up their instruments in the darkened background.

"Edward?" she asks, delivering the word to chastise me.

"Rose?" I question back and blast her with my most innocent smile.

She huffs, ready to walk off stage, as we switch seamlessly to the jazz version. The images change to Eddie Harris on his sax. It takes a couple of seconds for the audience to catch on before there's a rumble of noise, many of them looking at each other and laughing.

I'm relieved that it worked and that we just have the music to concentrate on now. We decided while putting the show together that more comedy was unnecessary, so we just encouraged our jazz orchestra to move and enjoy themselves. Rose stands behind me for a while, making sure I'm behaving myself, and then leaves the stage.

For the first half of the show, we decided to stick mainly with songs the audience may know as they get used to what we are trying to achieve. We go straight into our Dave Brubeck medley, starting with the sublimely haunting, "Audrey," each number more lively than the last. Rose returns to the stage and begins to sing as the screens alternate with scenes from _The Sound of Music._

There is nothing I can say about her voice that hasn't been said before. She is the ultimate professional, and the audience erupts when the number finishes. They have the same reaction to "Love Me or Leave Me," and I'm relieved to see shoulders still moving when I'm playing my classical jazz accompaniment.

Benny Golson's "This Night" fills in the gap to allow Rose to change out of her tux. Carlisle's trumpet players follow his sax perfectly in harmony as they dance together, swinging their instruments back and forth.

We wait patiently for Rose to return. She walks out gleaming in a sparkly figure-hugging dress to sing "After You're Gone" with a perfectly restrained brass section, and then Peggy Lee's "You Was Right Baby," where the trumpets get to dominate more. That's probably the only song that no one will know, and Rose is so confident and vibrant that she sings it like it's brand new.

At the end of the next song, "I Must Have That Man," Emmett captures Rose with his arms and kisses her. There are whoops and whistles from the audience as the lights dim on the end of the first set.

We have fifteen minutes to limber up and drink some water and nobody says anything about how we're doing. It's bad luck.

The first number after intermission is "Blue Bossa." We chose it as a way to showcase Mister Lonesome's individual players jostling to dominate. I wrote in an electric guitar with an opposing melody, and this seemed like the right time to introduce Emmett's bossa nova rhythm. Rose wanted to play her guiro, and Jared was happy to step up front to join us on bass.

The contrast of playing "Desafinado" immediately after is supposed to show that the struggle is over as we settle down to play cohesively together. My part in it is mainly background, with just a flourish here and there.

Since Rose is only playing percussion for two lengthy numbers, she returns in a stunning gold dress for my favorite, "Little Girl Blue," and I get choked up, playing the music I composed, thinking how far I've come. At the end, I have to say, "Ladies and gentlemen, Rose Hale," because she is truly magnificent.

This is where I go left of center. When I first played Chick Corea's "Return to Forever," the band made comments like, "It's a little weird," and "Wow, spacey vocal." The way the piano chipped in against the deep sensual drumbeat wouldn't leave me alone, and I was compelled to write something of my own based on the idea. I named it "Forever" in homage to the original.

When I heard Leah playing flute one day, it made me fight for its inclusion in the set. Knowing Emmett's high standards and his ability to play his ass off for the entire track, I pitched it as a great use of his new gadgets. The "weird" disappeared with a rearrangement that included sax and a steady background on guitar, and I like it more every time I hear it now. Leah kills it tonight, never missing her precise entry on flute.

Another medley follows with the tribute to Les McCann and Eddie Harris that went down so well at the Jazz Festival. It's quite long, leading up to the final song of the evening, Ella Fitzgerald's version of "How High The Moon." We saved this song until late because it heavily taxes Rose's voice.

We stand and bow and there are whistles louder than the applause. Waving as we leave the stage, we all breathe a sigh of relief once we're past the curtain. Now we wait to see if they want more. The applause continues and then changes into a pulse beat.

"Don't they ever call out 'encore' in a theater anymore?" I ask, excited by the sound. Jasper rolls his eyes at me, puts his hands on my shoulders and marches me through the opening in the curtain. The applause rises, and we take our places again.

"Jubilation" energizes the crowd. I know why Carlisle, who was confident we would receive an encore, chose to introduce it now.

We close the show with "Whisper," and I feel a calm sweep over me when the violins join us, knowing those early lyrics can stay in a past I'll never revisit. When Rose and I sing together, I think of everything she's done for me. The applause is very loud as we finally walk off stage.

Everyone comes back to my place, high on adrenaline, to drink, relax, and deconstruct the evening. We don't find much we want to change, so we agree to meet back at the theater after lunch.

Waking the next morning to soft kisses on my ear and tits pressing into my back, I only show I'm conscious by moving my legs. Breathing deeply, I fill my lungs with Bella's fresh scent.

"You awake, Mister Lonesome?" my baby whisperer purrs in my ear. I love the way she does this and I'll take all she wants to give.

"Mm-hmm," I hum, as her lips move down my neck, hoping whatever she's doing here involves her getting naked and into bed with me.

"You have a beard," she murmurs, sliding her leg over me and gently biting my jaw.

"Sort of," I answer, running my hand down her thigh and hitching it higher.

She kisses my scruff and climbs me a little more. "I like it."

"Are you getting worked up, baby?" I ask, knowing the answer since the heat penetrating through her jeans is searing my hip. She's definitely working me up. I have an erection that's gonna need attention soon.

"I'm horny," she answers in her sultry voice, biting my neck. I turn around, kissing her, and she moans when she discovers the effect she's having on me. "What time do you have to be at the theater?" she asks, pulling her t-shirt over her head and revealing bare tits.

"Later," I answer, rolling her on her back so I can look at her properly. "I missed you this week." When her arms come up to me and create a delicious cleavage, I can't stay away from her tits because, fuck, they feel so good.

"I missed you too." She watches her hands move over my face and then down to my chest, running her tongue along her lips. When she lifts her head off the pillow and kisses me, I soak up the pleasure of her tongue, her tits, her thumbs on my nipples, her leg pulling me into her heat.

I get her jeans open and groan when I find her slippery wet. "I want this," I tell her as she rubs herself against my fingers, closing her eyes.

She helps me take her jeans and panties off, saying, "I want this," taking hold of my dick and stroking it, kissing the hell out of me. "Keep touching me," she commands as she leans back and lines me up. With one forward movement of her hips, I'm inside, stretching her. She throws her head back and calls out, "Oh fuck!" Pulling all the way out, I plunge in deeper until there's nothing between us. She grabs hold of my hair and moans, meeting my thrusts.

It doesn't take long for the pink flush on her neck to spread over her chest, and I follow its path with my tongue, tasting the heat in her skin. Her breathy sounds follow our rhythm, and she starts to watch me with wild eyes.

Bella has never shied away from her sexuality, but she's becoming more confident and vocal about what she wants during sex. With her hands all over me, she urges me to go harder, faster, wanting more.

Just when I think I'm reaching sensory overload, she pulls me down to her lips and cries into my mouth as her tension explodes. I don't stand a chance of delaying my orgasm any longer, and I grunt as I come with her. We keep kissing and her legs encase me, rocking us together, until I eventually slide out with a spent dick and a smile on my face.

"So good," she says, kissing my neck.

_This girl… I fucking love it when she's horny._

She heads for the bathroom, and I lie there thinking that there is no better way to start a Saturday. I already wish she could be here every day. Leaving her in Lafayette last weekend and driving off in opposite directions felt wrong, but I was over my meltdown by then, and we'd talked everything through.

Bella caught me when I explained how she received the money from the royalties and that I had already set up the money to go directly into her account. How I knew those details led to me admitting that I'd had a background check done on her soon after we met. She was shocked at first and then fell back on the bed laughing, asking me what I'd found out.

Now she understands that I have money and that I want to provide. I understand that she is happy to let me pay for things we consume together, like meals, going out, and the plane tickets that reunite us. She just doesn't want anyone questioning her motives when she thinks I'm a celebrity, and she is no one, so outwardly she wants to remain the same for now. Those two words "for now" give me hope that she's considered something more permanent, as I have.

"Are you coming in?" Bella stands at the bathroom door, twisting her hair up on her head, and I'm out of bed, ready to join her. It's times like these, gazing at her naked body without feeling the need to ravish her, when she's the most beautiful to me. This simple act of washing each other after sex has become a way to show that we care. It's a different kind of pleasure, another thing I love that's all Bella.

Freshly showered, I'm brushing my teeth when Bella comes in, already dressed and studying her phone."Want to hear a review?" she asks.

"Already?" I ask, pulling the toothbrush out of my mouth.

"I'll read it to you. 'I went into this concert believing that Edward Masen and Rose Hale were cashing in on their reputation as seasoned performers. Yes, they both have formidable talent, but together? It all sounded a little passé when they were resurrecting songs from the past, while most of these shows are experimenting with new music and ideas.'"

I cringe and say, "Please don't read any more."

"I need to finish, Edward," and she starts again, ignoring me.

"'Let me stand corrected. _Little Girl Blue_ is a rejuvenation of artists and songs that we have sadly managed to forget. I feel ashamed to say that I failed to recognize some of the music because it's so different from the original, but that's jazz. The talent is deep within the members of Mister Lonesome, and they use their backing orchestra efficiently and soulfully. Soul. That's the word that springs to mind when I describe this show. It has soul, without the "Soul Train." There is a love for this genre that comes through on every piece they play. I would return, but there's not a ticket available for the next two weeks.'"

"Yes!" I fist pump, knowing that early reviews are often negative.

"I thought you'd like it. Listen, I really have to get back to the family. I'm supposed to be shopping. I hope you don't think I just came over to use your body."

Rinsing my mouth, I look up at her and she's smirking.

"You can use me like that any time you want." I pull her to me and kiss her. She runs her hand down my back and squeezes my ass.

"See you there." She disappears with a giggle.

_She'll be using me again later tonight if I have anything to do with it._

When I reach the theater, Garrett has called a meeting that I'm obviously late for.

"Everything okay?" I ask, worried there's a change I should already know about.

"Glad you could make it." Garrett answers. "I want to know if you're willing to extend the show." Rose is nodding enthusiastically behind him.

"What, after one night?"

"Yes. They called me this morning and there is enough interest to warrant it. I need to do something quickly, and everyone else here is in. You just have to agree, and I'll make it happen."

"Jesus," I say, running a hand through my hair.

"You're already a success."

"Okay, I guess." It feels a little unreal, but everyone else leaves the room, animated and talking loudly, leaving Garrett and I behind. "But we'll talk about cutting the members of Mister Lonesome in on the profits."

"All right, if that's what you want, but you're the one who's been writing all the music. Is it Bella? Has she become your muse?"

"I don't know, Garrett. I feel renewed, and I've been driven to write since I met her, so yeah, maybe."

"You gave away the rights to your first original song to her." I wait, wondering what he's going to say about this because I never consulted him. "Now I understand how much you love her. I'm sorry I've been such an asshole."

"Well, you have been an asshole, but I wonder if I would have wanted the old me anywhere near her if she was my niece."

"You're not that man anymore, Edward Masen. You may just turn out okay."

As soon as they open the theater, Bella comes backstage, telling me I look hot in my blue tux. She's not overdressed, but she looks beautiful and elegant with her soft up-do, high heels, silk blouse and navy slacks. She leans against my thigh as we chat to the others, and the feeling of silk against her skin is distracting. My mind keeps drifting to thoughts of her writhing underneath me this morning, so I'm actually glad when we get the call from Alice, and she has to go to her seat.

Walking out on stage for our second night, I'm not feeling too bad. There were more reviews during the day which were complimentary. Scanning the front rows, I grin at my angel and her family who are joyously clapping.

Then I falter.

In row number three, six seats from the middle, is my mother, applauding the loudest. There's a spare seat next to her, and I see her turn around as if she is expecting someone. Don't tell me he's let her down and not turned up. Still, she's made the effort and I smile at her, welcoming her into my new world.

During the first few numbers, I keep glancing at the empty seat and squashing the feelings of hatred I have for the man. He is ruining this with his absence. Then, as we wait for Rose to come back after her costume change, I see him hurry down the aisle and work his way to his seat. Mom smiles at him, and he kisses her cheek, saying something in her ear. Her hand coming up to cup his jaw is so foreign that I'm staring at them when I realize I have to look away.

After that, I don't acknowledge them again. It's too off-putting. However, I do keep my girl in my sights, feeling her presence calming me from the front row. Two songs have a big effect on Bella, "Little Girl Blue" and "Whisper," which I knew she would struggle with emotionally. It's one thing to hear the recording, but another to see me sing it to her with all my love.

Bella has red eyes when she comes backstage and clings to me. I'm holding her and kissing her hair when I hear someone clear their throat and look up to see my parents waiting in front of me. Bella lifts her face from where it is buried in my chest and beams at them as if they're the best thing she's ever seen.

Mom squeezes my hand and says she loved the show, smiling at Bella. Edward Senior even acknowledges her by name and then touches my arm, saying he's surprised by how much he enjoyed the evening, apologizing for arriving late and mumbling about the lack of parking in Lincoln Park. It's a backhanded compliment, but I'll take it.

He says he knows that I'm busy so they won't take up any more of my time, and he moves to go. Just for once, couldn't they stick around long enough for him to say he's proud of me? Instead, they retreat, declining my invitation to join us for a drink.

I watch them leave, and he's rubbing Mom's back. She kisses his cheek, and I know in that moment that he's done this for her. I guess that's all I really want, for her to be important to him, because I don't need him.

Everyone descends on the bar at the Raffaello Hotel, where the family is staying together. When I offer Charlie a whiskey, he shakes his head with a laugh and says he'll have a lite beer instead. Unlike my father, he congratulates me warmly, taking time to talk about the show, and soon others join us to do the same.

Rose arrives with Emmett, and she starts hugging and kissing everyone. I wonder again if this family was the reason she hung on to the marriage when things fell apart. Garrett watches her, standing back with his arm around Kate. He looks more content than I've seen him in a long while, and when Marie starts a conversation with Kate, he catches my eye and motions for us to get out of here.

I follow him out to the rooftop garden where we sit down to relax, and Garrett lets out a satisfied breath. Looking out, I see this view is similar to the one from my apartment.

"Another great show, Edward. How does it feel?"

"It feels good. It feels like I would have never done it without you, though. Thank you for pushing me." I tip my drink at him but there's not a hint of a smile on his face.

"You'll be looking for a big time manager soon."

He's said things like this before, but I don't mind playing his game tonight since our relationship has been strained lately.

"No, I won't, Garrett. You know I want someone I can trust, not some big shot who'll rip me off."

"You absolutely sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Do you honestly want me to stroke your ego?"

"No," he says with a grin. "I'm looking for a steady income. Kate's pregnant."

"Oh, my God, that's fantastic!" I feel like I should be ordering cigars.

"Keep it down," he says, holding his fingers up and looking around. "She's ten weeks."

"What does that mean?" With no nieces or nephews, kids have never been on my radar. I only know how to avoid getting pregnant.

"We're not telling anyone until she's three months."

"Because something could still go wrong?"

"More because Rose and I couldn't conceive."

"Oh." It's all I can say. Rose never discussed anything like this with me.

"It drove us apart, Edward, and consumed our marriage. Everything we ate, every time we had sex was about making a baby, and every month was more disappointment to deal with."

"I'm sorry, Garrett, I didn't know. I wondered what happened."

"Rose is all class. She wouldn't tell anyone. They never found anything wrong with either of us so... we just weren't meant to be together."

"You still have feelings for her?"

He looks out at the view, as if he's thinking about his answer. Then he says, "Sometimes… when I watch her with Emmett… but I love Kate, and she is more like me, so I guess the baby fail did us a favor."

Garrett has opened up to me in the last few days, showing a vulnerability and honesty that I truly appreciate. I look down at my drink and lift my glass to him.

"Congratulations, man. I know you'll be a great dad."

"There they are!" We turn to the sound of Bella's voice and see her coming out the door. She has Kate, Rose and Emmett behind her, and their faces light up with surprise when they notice the view.

"Don't say anything," Garrett says in a low voice. I just look at him, amazed that he thinks he has to remind me.

Bella sits in my lap and puts down a half-glass of champagne. I surround her with my arms and pull her close to me. She says in my ear, "Let's go."

"We're going to head off, guys," Rose announces, with her arm around Emmett.

"What's going on inside?" I inquire, wondering if we have to say goodbye to a crowd of people, thinking it could be awkward.

"They've all gone to bed," Kate answers, covering a yawn with her hand.

I squeeze Bella softly and move so she knows to get up. "We should go as well, baby."

"Aren't you staying here, Bella?" Garrett asks.

"No." She looks at him as if he has two heads and stands up defiantly. "I'm staying with Edward."

He looks up at her as if he has some say in this. "Are Charlie and Renee okay with that?" I watch Kate's hand close around his arm.

Bella narrows her eyes at him and answers, "I don't live at home anymore, Garrett, and they know I'm with Edward every weekend. They're not stupid."

He sits back in his seat, slowly shaking his head. "That doesn't sound right to me."

Even though I'm tugging on her hand, Bella won't let it go. "Oh, my gosh, what's it got to do with you? You're such a fuddy-duddy."

Rose spits out a laugh and says, "Okay, we're outta here. See you tomorrow."

Garrett's mouth drops open as he huffs.

"We're going too," I add, pulling Bella away before she can inflict any more damage on her now-silent uncle.

Bella turns and calls out, "Goodnight, Kate. It was lovely to see you."

Still chuckling, Rose puts her arm around Bella and says, "I really love you, Bella."

Watching Bella deal with Garrett is pure poetry. He's no match for her and he knows it. As these two women, my favorite women, laugh together as they go through the door in front of me, I don't need to ask what they find so amusing. All I know is that they both have my back, and that's enough.

* * *

**Thanks for the favs and followers and for all of you who are still reading this fic. The reviews... well I think every one has made me smile this week and I love you all for sending them.**

**xxx Compass**


	8. Chapter 8

**This chapter is brought to you by the survivors of exasperating elderly parents, children and siblings in hospital, and tornadoes! I swear this is what VampyreGirl86 said in a comment in the doc, "Promise to re-read later. We have a tornado coming within 20 minutes." She's okay, but it's an example of what she, Nic and Hadley do. I can never thank any of you enough.**

**Disclaimer**: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_**Edward**_

Bella is giggling as we wait for her flight home on Sunday. She's been like this all day. I stopped laughing about what happened hours ago, but I still would have loved to have seen it.

After Bella put Garrett in his place last night, he must have gone home seething because he turned up uninvited at breakfast to complain to Renee and Charlie about how disrespectful she was. We weren't there, still snuggled up in bed, getting updates from Bella's cousin who was texting as it went down.

Garrett put on quite a show in front of the family, and Charlie pulled him from the room, telling him he was being inappropriate. Everyone at the table kept quiet, still able to hear them. Charlie ripped into him, telling him to butt out and stop acting like she needed a guardian when she was a twenty-two-year-old woman with a good head on her shoulders and a caring man who loved her.

They came back into the restaurant where Charlie sat down and said, "Now you know why we didn't invite him to the birthday party," laying his napkin in his lap and taking a bite of his toast. Renee was embarrassed, but she didn't deny it. Even Marie remained silent, and Garrett stormed out.

Priceless.

Trying to stop giggling, Bella tells me she's starting work this week on the Christmas program for the daycare. She is going to teach the kids a dance, using "Gramophone" as the music.

When I offer to dig out the CD of me playing with the orchestra for them to use, she wraps her arms around me and smothers my cheek with kisses. I tell her I'll play it live with that sort of encouragement, but she sighs, asking if I know where I'll be in December.

The way Garrett has been talking, this is just the beginning. Everyone wants more when I'm paying the members of Mister Lonesome five grand a show, but Garrett is charging ahead like a machine without considering Kate or Bella or Esme and Carlisle's kids.

The only answer I can give her is, "If I'm around and there's a piano, I'll do it. How's that?"

She runs her fingers through my hair and answers, "Okay."

* * *

Garrett and I are in the offices of the Jenks Agency, whose creative team is pitching their idea for the video to accompany "Whisper." They explain that modern gimmicks don't fit the overall sadness and mood of the song, proposing a stylized treatment with scenes of a man and a woman.

Garrett doesn't say anything. I can only see one woman in the video, damn sure I'm not going to present the idea to Bella. The media interest in her is already enough.

I am just about to ask them if they have any other ideas when the artistic director senses our reluctance and starts describing the "impression" of the woman, never identifying her. He proposes a camera technique, initially with a small depth of field focused on me looking lonesome and torn, expanding as the romance progresses, without ever showing Bella's face. He wants to shoot the scenes on a background of Chicago's famous sights.

I like this. They show us a mock-up for the image to go with the single, a rear shot of a couple holding hands.

"We'll get back to you," Garrett announces, picking up his phone and motioning for us to leave. I thank the team for their trouble and we go, just like that. Standing in the elevator, I look at him, waiting for him to say something.

Funnily enough, Garrett hasn't mentioned Bella lately. "I don't think you want my opinion, Edward."

"Just tell me, as my manager."

He sighs before he speaks. "I happen to like this concept a lot. My problem is that I don't want Bella in the video, yet the idea of an actress playing the part of your girlfriend is distasteful to me, if that makes sense."

What he says makes complete sense. "If she's not identified…"

"It's her song, Edward, but please let me speak to her first. We can go to another agency or ask Jenks to come up with something else."

That night after the concert, Bella calls, excitedly telling me that Garrett hasn't talked her out of the idea, saying that we have to do this video together. I ask her to slow down and think about it carefully before she comes to a decision. She says she doesn't understand what the big deal is anyway, when people take photos of us everywhere we go. I try to argue that this is different.

The following night she calls again, describing a scene where she gets into a cab, leaving me on the street, and another where we clown around on the beach. She pleads for us to have this incredible record of how our relationship started when only we'll know what really happened.

I cave.

We shot the cab scene earlier today and another of us on a boat on the river, crossing under the LaSalle Street Bridge, emerging into the vista of modern and historic skyscrapers of the city. Yesterday, we were at the Bean, Wrigley Field, and the beach. For the choruses, they're using footage of Mister Lonesome performing at the Green Mill.

Bella is waiting on Van Buren Street in her new black jeans and white t-shirt that pokes out below her short jacket. She's resting her arm on the handbag that hangs from her shoulder, looking up at a sky that is still blue, but won't be for long. The street lamps are already glowing amber. After four attempts to get the timing right and the light fading fast, we all know this is our final chance. We can't take over this sidewalk for much longer.

"Go on!" the director calls, and I walk over, putting my arm around Bella's shoulder. I look down at her, and she tilts her chin up , kissing me, but the camera can't see any part of her face. Only I saw how lovely she looked with the last rays of the sun touching her cheek.

The light turns green and we cross the road arm in arm as a silver train slides around the bend of the elevated track above us. The other pedestrians have cooperated, so we're the only two people in the shot. We keep on walking until we hear distant cheers that tell us we've wrapped the final scene.

Two days of filming are finally over. You wouldn't think that waiting around could make you so tired, but the last thing I want to do is a show tonight. Bella has to go to the airport now to catch a plane home, but she hasn't complained once, and the crew have all fallen in love with her.

A week later, they present us with the final product, and true to their word, Bella's face is not in one second of the video. Anyone who knows her will recognize her instantly, but I'm very happy with what they've done. The way they've shot it is tasteful and romantic. It will appeal to women mostly, but that's always been our target audience. The main thing is that Bella is happy.

* * *

We're gathering the last of our stuff as we move out of Park West, and I'm running on empty. The only thing that's keeping me going is the idea of spending a whole weekend with Bella in Indy.

Garrett makes an announcement that he needs a quick meeting before we leave, and it's already 1:00 a.m. Carlisle immediately says he can't stay long, and I sigh. Working every day for four weeks has been tough, and all I want to do is sleep. I honestly don't know how bands tour for months and deliver a show every night. Maybe I was just too old when I started.

"I have good news. 'Whisper' has charted at 135." It is good news, but I'm too tired to celebrate right now.

The others start chuckling and chattering, enjoying the moment. "That's great," I respond lethargically.

"Are you ready for more good news?" Garrett goes on. I lean on a table and yawn.

"Sure," Emmett answers, his face alive with anticipation.

"We've got two weeks in Detroit and another two in Pittsburgh."

Rose puts her arms around Emmett's waist and squeals. Jasper and Alice smile at each other.

"When?" I ask, hoping we're going to get a decent break first.

"Next Friday. I've jumped on a cancellation."

"And Pittsburgh?" I groan through the sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Immediately after. With the song getting airplay, we have to capitalize on the attention."

Bella's concert had better not be during the first week of December. When I hear the frustrated noise come out of Carlisle, I have to say something.

"I understand that, Garrett, but I asked you to consult me before you committed us to anything, didn't I?"

"Yes, but… I'll look like an amateur if I cancel now. I've paid for the venue." He looks around at the others for support. "What's the problem?"

I just shake my head as the irritation builds. He doesn't get it because nothing will ever be more important than what is driving him at the time. This trait of his served me well when I had no attachments, but Garrett doesn't even consider his pregnant wife.

It's easy to understand why some of us are happy with the news, but Carlisle and I will be alone, separated from those we love for too long. It appears I don't have a choice in the matter, so I pick up my bag and walk right up to him.

"Don't fucking book anything else," I say in his face, and walk out before I erupt. Carlisle is right behind me.

"Settle down, Edward," he says with a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You have to get used to the separations."

"Will Esme fly out?"

"Probably not," he says dejectedly. "It's hard to bring the kids, and she won't leave them for a whole weekend. It's never worth it for one night."

I blow out a big breath, puffing my cheeks out, trying to handle the disappointment. I wouldn't ask Bella without Esme to keep her company. They've already been spending Friday evenings together, and Bella has been at the show every Saturday night. She's given up every goddamn weekend for me.

Luckily, we both get cabs quickly because I don't want the others to see me feeling sorry for myself. It's also very cold. Winter is almost upon Chicago.

Sending a text to Bella, I only include the news about the song. She'll wake up and enjoy the feeling of success.

I consider sparing her the bad news for the next few days, not wanting to spoil our first weekend off in a month, but it's the only time we're going to be able to discuss this face to face. It feels like Garrett has already ruined everything.

When I arrive at the daycare and see the look on her face, I know that nothing could spoil the weekend. Bella introduces me to Beverley Cope, who runs the center, and their student teacher, a very wide-eyed girl named Tanya, who is helping Bella with the Christmas program. She gushes over our video and song while Bella never takes her eyes off me, beaming.

I ask if they have a date for the concert yet, and when they tell me December 11, I'm thrilled to offer my services if they would like me to play. Beverley looks like she needs to sit down at this news, and I hold back a laugh, telling her it's going to be a lot of fun.

"So you're going to be around for a while?" Bella asks hopefully, as I get into the passenger seat of Charlie's Ford Fusion. It's beige, inside and out.

"What year is this?" I ask, looking around inside the car, seeing why she didn't jump for joy when he offered it to her.

"2009. Why? It runs okay."

I shrug and answer, "It's fine." To me all cars feel wrong from the passenger seat, and come to think of it, Bella hasn't driven me anywhere since the first night we met.

"You're a car snob, aren't you?" she reprimands me.

Bursting out with laughter, I don't know how honest to be. "Car snob," I repeat to myself.

"You never answered my other question." I lift my eyebrows, hoping she'll believe I forgot. "Are you going to be around for a while?"

So much for keeping her in the dark for a few days. "No."

Her shoulders drop and she asks, "When?"

"We leave next Thursday."

"Aw, for how long?"

"Four weeks."

"Whaaaaat? Where are you going?"

"Detroit and then Pittsburgh."

She starts the car and forces a smile. I can see she's upset, but she won't look at me.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I'll be back in plenty of time for your concert."

We drive out past the gym and onto the main road. "I knew it would happen. I just didn't…"

"Bella?" All I can do is squeeze her leg to show I understand.

With a big sigh, she says, "S'okay."

As soon as we're inside the apartment, I pull her into my arms, needing the comfort of her body against mine. Then she releases me, goes to the kitchen and looks out the window. "You know it's probably a good thing anyway. I need some time."

Trying to hide my gasp, a feeling of panic comes over me, and my pulse rate takes off. I watch her closely, looking for clues in her body language. She leans back on a kitchen cupboard, as if she's about to make an announcement, and I hold my breath.

"I need to work out what I'm doing job wise. They haven't offered me anything and... I think I've made a mistake choosing this career."

I still can't speak, because my heart feels like it's pounding out of my chest.

"It's not as satisfying as I thought it would be. The idiotic rules and regulations drive me mad. I've done twelve hours of night classes over the last few weeks to keep up my accreditation, and I did not learn one thing new. It was a complete waste of my time."

"Come here." I need her in my arms; I'm so relieved this is about work and not us. She comes over and sits in my lap, instantly aware of my rapid heartbeat, and wanting to know what's wrong.

When I tell her where my mind went, she frowns and tilts my chin up, saying, "I love you." Then she kisses me and adds, "You never need to doubt my love."

I bury my face in her neck and hold her as tightly as I can. "Please come to Chicago."

"But you won't be there," she answers, hugging me and kissing the top of my head.

_Why did I say that? Why would she even consider leaving her family and friends now when I have to abandon her? _

I loosen the vise-like grip I have on her and look up into her face. "This will slow down, Bella. I promise I won't let Garrett run us into the ground, and I will sack him if I have to. I want to find some balance and have time to enjoy this. I loved playing those gigs at the Green Mill, and I can't give up my classical performances completely."

She nods, knowing I'm sincere. "Let's just see what happens. I'll try to fly out to you in Detroit." This just makes me want to sigh.

We're both lost in our own thoughts for a while, and then she stretches and says, "Well, I'm going to have a quick shower and change into something… else." The flick of her eyebrow makes me think she's not coming out in sweats and a t-shirt.

"Something else?" I ask, kissing her fingers and imagining the answer.

"Yeah." She pecks me on the lips and stands. My hand moves over her hip, and then I look up, seeing that smile I love, full of innuendo. "This one is pink, Edward. I think it's time we got our weekend started, don't you?"

"I do," I answer, trying to hold back a smirk. "Should I get changed too?"

"No." Her eyes roam over me and she adds in her most sultry voice, "Let me take care of that for you." She lifts a scrap of pink material out of her drawer and heads into the bathroom. "Be right back," she says, then closes the door.

_This girl…_

I know I'm not supposed to anticipate her, but fuck me, my dick doesn't agree.

* * *

Over the course of the weekend, I realize how serious she is about career change. She already has an appointment after work next week with her old professor from Purdue. Bella is still very bound up in the welfare of kids in unlicensed daycares, and she attacks the new laws she believes only deal with part of the problem.

She says the courses they offer don't adequately address the issues of working in isolation, and most of their start times are just as many of these daycares are closing. Everything seems to revolve around funding called CCDF, and she reads the list of things they must achieve in order to receive it.

It sounds very complex to me, quite a lot of hoops to jump through, and the graph she shows me explaining the ratio of caregivers to children is indecipherable. Bella reads from the sheet. "The only time one caregiver can care for twelve children is when all children are three years of age or older. I mean… are you kidding me?"

She tells me she often thinks about Riley, the boy who had to leave her daycare, and whether he's okay. She says she knows she has to learn to become detached, but I wonder if it's possible for someone with her kind heart.

Over dinner one night, she outlines her strategy for dealing with the problem as she sees it. She wants unlicensed daycares to be short-term or emergency care, with funding for only six months per child. With the right training on avoiding danger and how to handle crisis situations, she says they can be brought into the system without long-term damage to the child's well-being or development.

"I can't affect change as a preschool teacher, Edward. I need to work in an area where I'll have power someday, like an advisory council. I might have to go into a government job, and I'll definitely need more education."

Wow. I'm visualizing Bella Swan running for President, addressing the United Nations, knowing she'll achieve anything she set her sights on. "You'll do it. I know you will."

We leave the restaurant with me having an even deeper respect for my girlfriend, thinking about taking her home and showing her how much I love her, when a camera flash goes off in my face.

"Really, James? This is interesting enough to deserve a photo?" Bella speaking with the photographer and calling him by name startles me.

"Don't encourage him, love." I pull her away to the car, but she turns around and calls to him.

"One day, I'm going to get _your_ photo, so be very careful what you do in public." He just chuckles and crosses the street, shaking his head. "How does he even know where we are?"

"You know they get tip-offs, babe. People tweet."

She sighs and says, "I'm going to hit him one day."

"Come on, spitfire. What would your father think of his daughter up on an assault charge?"

"Yeah, he's so not worth it," she answers, watching him until he disappears.

I change my flight to leave on Monday night. It's hard to drag myself away when I'm suffering from too much sex and too many hours watching her sleep. I still find the way she sleeps fascinating, sometimes taking up the whole bed with her arms and legs splayed out, and other times curled in close to my side.

This apartment is growing on me anyway. Bella's whole world in one small room is a tranquil uncomplicated place, and it gives me a chance to imagine her texting me or calling or typing messages on her laptop. I spend a day on my own, either sleeping or burning those images into my head.

We don't make any firm plans when I leave. She says she will definitely fly out, but I don't want her arriving in a strange city in the cold of night when I can't pick her up. Carlisle's words about it never being worth it for one night resound in my head. I try to focus on the weeks I'll have with her in December and how I'm going to convince her that moving to Chicago in the winter is the best idea she's ever had.

* * *

We fall back into our old habit of messaging. We still call, of course, but this intimate way of communicating that worked for us before allows us to relate our daily lives without emotion choking our voices. The first thing I do when I come back to the hotel after a show is check if she's left me something, and it's always there, even if it's only a heart or a few words. Then I sit down to respond and tell her I miss her.

The meeting with her professor goes well, and his advice is to switch to social work or law. He even offers to help her complete her application for Purdue, when some of the courses have an early November admissions deadline. I want to scream, but I know she has to decide what's best for her, just like I went against my mother's advice to come home at a similar age.

Not wanting to make a hasty mistake, I can't believe it when she contacts myfather to ask his opinion on the law side of things, and then he suddenly has plenty of time to talkon his favorite subject. He tells her she'll be wasting her time doing social work, because the law forms the backbone of our country, and the opportunities to specialize are endless.

He gives her a few names to contact, and some of them are not in Chicago. If Bella gets into a law school on the east coast because of his influence, I'll kill him.

Not trusting his objectivity, she spends her time researching careers in teaching she may have overlooked as well as social work and every law course offered in the country.

She makes plans to come to Detroit for the second weekend of concerts. Esme agrees to bring the kids after Bella offers her help while we are working. Kate decides to fly over as well, so we're all looking forward to a fantastic weekend.

Then the worst possible thing happens.

I get the call at 5:00 on Thursday afternoon. Bella's strangled voice tells me that the little boy, Riley, has been burned in a terrible accident, and she can't come for the weekend.

My heart contracts, wishing I could be there to hold her. "Oh, baby, how did it happen?"

Her intake of breath is shaky, vibrating like she fears the release of the words, but then it all pours out between sniffles. "She had hot oil on the stove. Someone came to the front door. Riley shouldn't have had access to that kitchen. He pulled on the handle. The top of his head, his forehead, his ear, his face, his neck. Oh, God. She didn't think. Didn't react properly. She should have put him in the shower but she just called an ambulance, so he kept sizz… He could still die, Edward. They don't have any family here, so Tanya and I are going to stay with them tonight."

There's a clanging sound, metallic things hitting each other, and I ask, "Where are you?"

"I'm in Riley Hospital for Children. Can you believe that?" She makes a sound like a cross between a laugh and a whimper. "Maybe it's a good sign."

She says she has to go, so I call Renee, telling her I'm worried about Bella. She thanks me, and says she will go straight to her daughter. It's a relief, but I can't stop thinking about what they all must be going through.

I keep calling her until I have to go on stage, but she doesn't answer. I guess either her phone is out of charge, or she's switched it off in the hospital, so I go through the motions, but it's certainly not the best concert I've ever performed. When it's over, there's a text from Renee, telling me not worry and that she's taking Bella home.

The next morning, Garrett knocks on my door, saying a reporter contacted him, asking for my comment on images they have of Bella leaving the hospital, crying and leaning on her mother. Garrett says he decided that rather than going with "no comment," he related what we knew had happened to take the heat off Bella.

He says Renee stayed with Bella overnight, and while she is still very upset, she has gone to work and will return to the hospital immediately after. The boy is still critical.

On Saturday afternoon, Riley dies. Bella is devastated, pouring out an intense anger. She says his story wouldn't have even made the newspapers if that photo of her hadn't been taken, and she tells me her Facebook page now has hundreds of messages. Some of them are kind, but many are calling the woman who looked after Riley a murderer.

This woman had been at the hospital with Bella the whole time, praying, and now it's turned from an accident into a police matter. She says it's so unfair when the system is to blame, and she wants to respond and defend her now that she has an audience.

Only someone like Bella Swan would react this way, and I know it's pointless advising her not to get involved. I tell her I know she will handle it with dignity, asking her to take her time working out what she wants to say. Garrett offers to go over it with her and she agrees, not wanting to blow her best chance to bring the problem to the public's attention.

The post is both beautiful and jarring. Bella brings Riley back to life, describing how he started daycare the same day she began her work experience, how he was the kind of child you couldn't help falling in love with. His blue eyes would sparkle, and his little face would light up with joy when they put up a star next to his name to reward him for an achievement or for just trying hard.

She briefly goes into Riley's father having to find alternate care suddenly when his work hours changed and how she always wondered if he they would come back one day.

The most poignant part of the post is Bella speaking about how much the family day care mom loved Riley and how he became part of her family. Not able to afford child care for her own kids, the only way she could pay her bills was to take in a few extra children. She wasn't licensed. She couldn't spare the money or the time to come up to the required standards, but she offered a discount for cash.

It ends with, "Please take a moment to give thanks for the time we had with our shining boy, Riley. Please also think about a woman who will regret every day of her life not taking him with her to answer the door."

It's such a personal message, asking people to look at what happened from everyone's point of view. The responses are overwhelming. Negative comments still appear, but most contain compassionate words and images. People share stories about what happened to their child and post links to tragedies in Indiana and across the country. It's staggering how often it happens.

Sixteen hundred comments follow her post, burying the lynch mob mentality somewhere deep in the Facebook archives.

* * *

**Only one more chapter to go. Your incredible reviews have really kept me writing, expanding this fic way past the original three chapters I planned. Many of your suggestions have filled out the detail and some of your questions have led me (Edward) to clarify things more. Anyway, thank you for all of them.**

**xxx Compass**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry I threw a blanket of sadness over this story last chapter but things happen and withstanding them gives us strength and makes us look to what's important.**

**So this is it - three chapters than turned into nine because of you guys and your encouragement. This has been a lovely journey for me, meeting many of you for the first time. I cannot thank you enough for all the smiles you put on my face.**

**Disclaimer**: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

_**Edward**_

Riley's funeral is Friday. I can't get a flight from Detroit after our final show, but I can fly out early on Friday morning. Bella begs me not to take the chance of missing opening night in Pittsburgh, but I'll get a fucking private jet if I have to. My girl needs me.

Alice assures me she will handle the move of the show and presents me with a long list she's prepared. There's contact numbers and a plan B for every possible detail that could go wrong. It makes everything easier when I leave Detroit with my right hand in charge, knowing she won't let me down.

It's a clear and sunny autumn morning in Indianapolis. Hundreds of people pack the church, and many are still outside, clutching tissues and embracing each other. This is my first funeral, and the shiny miniature coffin adorned with delicate white flowers looks too beautiful to be something I would associate with death.

The boy's father is kneeling, looking into the face of a soft reindeer toy that he holds in front of him, sitting it on the front of the pew. A woman moves the palm of her hand lightly over his back.

The reindeer has seen better days, loved too hard by Riley probably, or maybe bruised by the father over his last eight days of hell. The man tenderly pulls at tufts of hair between the antlers. One of the antlers is bent and he tries to straighten it without any luck.

"Sven, from _Frozen_," Bella says quietly, also watching him.

The word makes me shudder, thinking of his little body in the ground with winter upon us.

"Edward?" she whispers, looking down at our joined hands. "Um… I'm losing circulation."

I pull her hand to my mouth and kiss it. "Sorry, baby."

The service is a blur of songs without distinct melody, interspersed with speeches of soft conciliatory words while people blow their noses, cough, and quietly cry. It never pauses when Riley's father's shoulders start shaking. I don't know what I expected, but this doesn't seem appropriate, trying to say goodbye to a child en masse like this. It's too impersonal.

I remember Riley vividly, crying in disappointment when I wasn't his father arriving to collect him, and the way Bella so quickly consoled him. Looking up, I wonder if he is here somewhere, and how his baby soul might interpret his funeral.

We come out into the sunshine where people are trying to stem their tears, seeking the comfort of others. I realize that grief is not something I can share, desperate to leave or just walk away on my own for a while. This funeral has had a surprisingly heavy effect on me.

Bella asks me to wait for a second, then goes over to Riley's father, standing with Beverley. They hug, and then she comes back, taking my hand. "I don't have to go back to work. I'm coming with you to Pittsburgh." I let her lead me to the car, glad to leave this surreal gathering and get back to normal again.

"Are you okay?" Bella asks, as I sit on her bed, staring into space while she packs a bag. She comes over and runs her fingers through my hair. Her voice and the comforting gesture makes me admire how naturally compassionate she is. "I've had a week to get used to it, Edward."

How does she know? Couldn't I just be thinking about making Pittsburgh in time for the concert tonight? I touch her cheek and say, "I'm supposed to be here for you, baby."

"Yeah, and I love you for it, but it means a lot that you can care like this. You're a special man."

I hold her, wanting to draw on her strength and shield us from the numbing feeling of loss.

Bella calls Esme, saying she's definitely coming to Pittsburgh for the weekend and asking if she would like to try again. When she tells her she needs a break from all the sadness of the last week, Esme agrees to come and bring the kids who are missing their father terribly.

Calling the hotel to book two adjoining rooms for them gives me something to do, and I start to feel better.

Alice does a sensational job and opening night goes so well that I tell Garrett to go home to Chicago as soon as he's ready. I want him to start planning next year, giving us time between shows to rehearse new songs and try them out at a more regular gig at the Green Mill.

He suggests we get started on recording an album, but I ask him just to concentrate on what I've given him to do. He says he's missing Kate anyway, and promises not to do anything until he speaks to us. The next morning, he's already gone to the airport by the time we arrive downstairs for breakfast.

Carlisle, Esme and their daughters are ready to leave for some sightseeing, and the girls excitedly tell Bella they are going on a cable car. The youngest one is swinging on Carlisle's hand. I don't know them well, but they are nice kids, very much like their mother, and obviously crazy about their dad. Carlisle is a happy man with his family around him.

Bella is never far from me when I'm not working, sometimes subdued, trying to manage the grief that keeps coming to the surface. Although I suggest some fresh air and a walk, she doesn't really want to go out anywhere, so we spend most of our time in bed, being tender with each other. I understand what she means when she says that the physical contact is helping her heal.

We talk about our futures, but they are still very much separate futures. We can't make any plans until she knows where she is going to be studying. It's starting to weigh on my mind.

After lunch on Sunday, Carlisle and I take our girls to the airport, and I watch his family while Bella rests her head on my shoulder. The interaction between the two siblings makes me consider what it would have been like to grow up with a brother. A stray thought pops into my head that if I ever have my own family, I hope for more than one child.

When they call Bella's flight, and we stand, both kids start to cry, clinging to Carlisle, believing that it's time for them to go. Esme has to explain about it being Bella's turn first, and they don't settle down until Bella hugs them, promising to see them soon in Chicago. I hear Bella thank Esme for cheering her up.

We go over to the gate and, even though we've done this many times before, today is more of a wrench for me. We still have another two weeks before we'll see each other again, and I'm worried that she's going to drop a bombshell that she's enrolling at Purdue or moving away somewhere to college.

I can't bring this up now, though, when she has so much to deal with, going back into a community that is broken after losing a child. Working in that preschool is going to remind her every day that Riley is gone. I just tell her to take care of herself and that I love her. She thinks I don't see her wipe her eyes after she goes through.

Going back to the Cullens, I know I have it easy, surrounded by people who've become like family, and two weeks to explore a new city. Bella has to go back to an empty apartment where I know she's going to keep researching curriculums, over complicating everything in my opinion. I want to tell her to make it easier on herself and just choose from the colleges we have in Chicago, but why hasn't she come to that conclusion already? Don't we have a world-renowned university in Chicago?

She just keeps saying, "Let's see what happens," and it's not enough.

* * *

Without knowing it, I create a problem for Bella. She sends an email out to all the parents, reminding them that the Christmas program is going to be held on December 11 at the school. She states in the email that Edward Masen will be their special guest, accompanying the children dancing to the "Gramophone Waltz," and the response frightens them. Now everyone's uncle and neighbor wants to come, more people than the preschool will hold, so they have to seek advice from higher up about what they should do.

The result is so Bella that I know it has to be her initiative. As long as everything is transparent, they're permitted to sell tickets with the profits going directly to the loan Riley's father took out for his son's funeral. Bella is open with everyone about what they are doing and moves the event to a local club.

They quickly sell out and Bella becomes nervous about the amount of entertainment she's providing. She had not planned an elaborate Christmas concert, only "Gramophone," "The Twelve Days of Christmas," and one other quick song all the children could sing.

She's so wound up about what people are expecting that I offer my help, and she's happy to receive any input I have. They only need a few more songs that are short and simple, without a heavy Christian message, since some of the families have other beliefs. She also asks for something to play while they get the kids in position, saying it could take a while.

Surely, this can't be as difficult as she is making it out to be. Within twenty-four hours, I give her half a dozen suitable songs and tell her I'll find something to play as a "filler." She says I might need more than one so I reassure her, saying she doesn't need to worry about that part. She tells me she loves me over and over again.

She gives me a final challenge – to come up with something that looks dramatic on stage but costs virtually nothing. When I ask the others for ideas, Alice says that the right lighting can make or break a stage performance, and it gives me an idea.

Every conversation and message revolves around this damn concert now. I wish I'd never offered to play because I know she's sent off her applications, and we're now at the mercy of the college admissions system, with no idea who will accept her.

With a week to go until we finish in Pittsburgh, Bella goes to her family for Thanksgiving, and I spend it with the band.

* * *

I'm early when my cab pulls up outside the preschool, and Bella races out to greet me. She doesn't jump into my arms in front of her workplace, but the gush of air and the crushing hug makes me smile. She's missed me as much as I've missed her.

When she takes me inside, I feel welcomed by both the staff and the way the place looks. There are handmade decorations everywhere hanging on strings from the ceiling, on their Christmas tree, and adorning the walls. One vast area is covered with Christmas stockings, all named brightly, some of them intricate and ornate while others are plain and simply decorated. It doesn't matter because every child has things to take home, and the staff are delighted in showing me the creations.

When I see the antler headbands they're making, it reminds me to tell them that my "filler" piece is going to be a song from _Frozen_, in honor of Riley. When I describe what I've planned for the finale of the concert and show them how cheaply it can be achieved, Bella looks at me as if she is ready to devour me.

She does devour me back in her apartment. Gratitude is a wonderful thing, especially when your girl shows it by giving you the hottest sex you've ever had, with a slow reacquaintance, an unveiling of skin and its pleasures. Maybe the five weeks going without had a lot to do with it, but fuck, I'm not surprised she fell asleep.

I'm more than content to lie here, replaying images of the last hour in my head.

_This girl…_

The next day we're at the club so I can assess what facilities they have and what I need to rent. They show me their upright piano, and I decide it's not worth the effort of having it tuned. I tell them I'll be back on Monday and take Bella shopping.

A couple of phone calls to our sound engineer and some negotiating with the music store owner gets me everything thing I need, including a new toy to play with. After giving several of the digital pianos a thorough workout, I choose the cherry red Nord 88 and play the song from _Frozen_ for Bella who listens quietly and smiles. It's poignant and will allow me to use the split feature I like so much – piano on my left hand and synth on the right. We don't even need delivery. We carry it out of there in a bag with a fold up stand, seat, pedals and a nice set of headphones, thrown in free.

I have to set it up and try it out as soon as we get back to the apartment. "What are you going to do with the piano? Are you taking it back to Chicago with you?" Bella enquires.

"Ugh…" I'm not really listening, reading the booklet on the different features. "Can I leave it here for now?"

"I'm not going to be here much longer, Edward."

This is a chance to ask her indirectly if she knows where she's headed. "What about at your parents' place?"

She looks surprised but answers, "Yeah, that's a great idea. Would you play something for us at Christmas?"

It's not exactly the answer I was looking for but it does solve the problem of a temporary home for the piano. I'd rather drive it back than trust it to baggage handlers. "Of course, I'd love to."

I start to play "Audrey," listening to the subtle difference between this digital sound and a real piano, and look up to see Bella seductively dancing over to me. I can almost hear Emmett playing, as she moves closer. She wraps her arms around my shoulders and starts to sing Carlisle's saxophone section softly in my ear. When her hands begin to travel over my chest, I lean back into her, and she grazes my earlobe. Then she stands with her arm out and a look on her face that says "bed."

_This girl… the piano can wait._

* * *

The week flies by with what they call rehearsals every morning. Some of the kids are quite good, but the little ones haven't got a clue really. Bella doesn't seem to mind now. She's simplified the dance steps and given up trying to get everyone to sing the correct words. It was one of the lines from "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" that defeated her. It was supposed to be "Make the Yule-tide gay," but they got stuck on, "May the Utah grey."

She has sent home the lyrics with each child, so their parents can help them practice, but she's realistic and much calmer than she initially was. She keeps saying that she has low expectations. I think it's going to be great.

It's been nice to get to know the group of women Bella works with. She and Tanya have become good friends, and I've seen what Bella has been talking about. Tanya is much better suited to life as a preschool teacher. While Bella certainly has a way with kids, she gets impatient with the way they do things in the center.

The best part of the week has been the children getting used to me as the only male who comes into the center and stays. They're fascinated watching Mr. Edward set up the piano each day because I don't leave it there. No way.

Envelopes arrive at the apartment, but I don't see any from colleges in Chicago, and I start to wonder if she's even applied there. I want to ask her outright, but I'm beginning to fear the answer. Every time she opens one, she shakes her head, and then puts it away with the others.

As soon as the concert is over, we're going to have this out, because I think I've been patient for long enough.

I spend Friday at the club, setting up the piano, the stage mikes and speakers I rented. The club's Christmas tree is at the rear of the stage, and the markers are down on the ground. Bella says that without them it would be chaos. A handful of parents have offered to stand in the wings, ready in case someone falls or starts to wail. Since Bella has been telling me what to expect, I'm now really looking forward to this.

At four, I pick up Bella and Tanya from the preschool, and Bella is grinning, telling me she'll never tire of seeing me in a suit. While there are no costumes, everyone must wear red or white or black. She looks gorgeous in her red dress. Tanya is in a black suit, and I can't tell if she's shivering or nervous. A few boxes go in the trunk, and we're off.

"Two for you, handsome." Bella kisses me and hands me my two LED candles that will be my only illumination during the finale. I test them, just to make sure, and place them on the ground at the feet of the piano stand. She disappears to the side of the stage.

Turning everything on, I run through the first piece, another one from Frozen, called "For The First Time In Forever." It's a big bold number which will make this feel like a real stage show, and it's the cue for the first group to come on stage. From what I've seen of the rehearsals, their idea of keeping the children with their families until they are required is a good one.

I look up to see Beverley, clutching her hands to her chest and beaming. "Wonderful, Edward!" she calls out. I wave to her and come down from the stage to ask how she's feeling. "Thank you for doing this for us," she says, winding her hand around my arm.

"My pleasure. It gave me an excuse to see a lot more of Bella."

"We're certainly going to miss her around here."

I sigh and say, "I just wish I knew where she was going."

"I'm sure you'll find out soon." Then she winks at me!

"What do you mean?" I ask, just as the first of the families come in.

"Oh, excuse me, Edward, I'll speak to you later."

I try to find Bella, but she's hugging her parents who have just turned up, and then she's welcoming families as they come in, handing out reindeer headbands with a couple of staff. They ask the parents to put on their child's headband before sitting down. Soon there's a herd of baby reindeer running around, and my girlfriend is missing again.

I only get a few minutes with Renee and Charlie who ask about the concerts and comment that Bella seems a lot better. I tell them it's because she's been run ragged by organizing the concert, and I apologize that I have to get up on stage.

At 5:30 sharp, Bella nods to me, and I start. A dozen of the oldest kids make their way up the few stairs and take up their position on their marked spots. Bella is there to guide them, and she smiles at me as she hands out their numbers. I find a suitable place to stop playing and relax. Bella clicks her remote control, and "The Twelve Days of Christmas" starts to play, then she stands back to let it unfold.

The children are supposed to hold their number up at the appropriate time in the song, and I have to put my hand over my mouth because I can't be rude and laugh. Some of them are downright aggressive when someone misses their cue, while others hold up their number at any old time. I can't tell if they're doing it on purpose. Because I've miked the stage, we can hear everything they say, and soon everyone is chuckling as the crowd becomes a sea of phones and video cameras recording it. I really hope we get a copy.

The applause is huge, and I play "Good King Wenceslas" as another group come up to join those already on stage. Bella and another teacher move them around like chess pieces before she gives me a nod.

Now the actual singing begins with "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus." There is one boy who was good in rehearsal, but he has the worst case of stage fright I've ever seen. He doesn't look scared, but he stands with his shoulders at a weird angle, slumped into himself, and doesn't utter a sound or move. It's like he's pretending that no one can see him. The rest of the group sing and blow kisses or just stand there, looking at the others or waving to their parents. Bella's face is a delight, and I can tell she's enjoying this as much as the crowd.

Next up is the dance, and this is where my new toy comes in. I have been playing around with the synth until I found a violin sound to use in a split, so I'm playing an orchestral version instead of a piano solo.

As soon as the kids pair up and are in position, I start to play, and they bow to each other and wait, watching Bella who will erupt if they start too soon. She's put her heart and soul into trying to perfect this. It's really just up and back a couple of times and then a twirl, but somehow she managed to get them to repeat it while moving around in a circle, so they all get a turn at the front of the stage.

With a couple of presses of buttons, I change the sound to a xylophone, and the boys walk around, turning the girls turn on one foot like little ballerinas with crowns made of antlers. Bella is positively beaming, and I see the breath of relief as the dance finishes. She looks at me, and the audience goes wild as the dancers bow, every one of them knowing they made her proud.

I start to play an extended verse to "Silver Bells," and the older ones move into a semi-circle formation as the rest of the teachers assist the little ones on stage. Some of them are excited, but others look like they're being led to the slaughter, mouthing "Mommy" as they wave to the crowd. On Bella's nod, I start to play the chorus, and some of them start to sing.

This is not a choir. These kids are off in their own little world, scratching their noses and ears while they sing. They continue to wave to their families. The kid with stage fright is still holding his crumpled stance but, to his credit, he hasn't made a move to come off. Now there's crying, though, and my baby whisperer has to crouch and calm down a couple of girls who can't handle it. I see them nod as if they're okay, but as soon as she takes a step away, they start up again, so she has to stay with them until the end of the song.

They allow the two crying girls to come back down before the next song. "Let It Snow" is much the same, a mixture of loud singing for some and terror for others, but it's over very quickly. It's time to pick up my two tea candles and turn them on, placing them at either end of the keyboard.

As soon as I start playing my other song from _Frozen_ called "Let It Go," the kids disappear behind the curtains at the side of the stage. Some of the teachers encourage the little ones to come back up with little success. It does take a long time, and I'm wondering if I should play something different when the lights dim slowly until it's quite dark.

They come out two by two, red halos and floating candles. Those glow stick headbands were such a find, and the LED candles look quite realistic, but they are very safe. Bella knew she wouldn't be able to control the kids completely in the dim light, so the perimeter is guarded by many adults crouching and ready, allowing the children to move around without too much interference. It looks magical.

As they form a line, I start to play "Have Yourself A Merry Christmas." Everyone in the room joins in, and I love the way this feels. There's something about choral singing I've always enjoyed. Bella looks at me, and we both sing together, "May the Utah grey," and she starts to giggle, beautiful by candlelight.

Two by two again, they leave the line and have their glowing headbands taken off by someone standing in the dark who places them on the Christmas tree. The floating effect is mesmerizing. Then the pairs come back into the line, with just their candles. The song finishes, and the applause is loud as the lights come up. I can't help but clap myself, because even though this concert was short, it was oh so satisfying.

Most of the kids stay on stage while the parents take about a hundred thousand photos, and Bella grabs a microphone.

"Aren't these children magnificent?" she asks, clapping with the mike in her hand. "I am so proud of all you reindeer."

For a moment, a dark thought crosses her face.

"Tonight we've honored one of our reindeer who couldn't make it, but I'm pleased to say we raised two thousand dollars in Riley's name, so well done, everyone." There's another round of applause. It is a fantastic result.

"This brings me to the real reason we're here tonight." She looks into my eyes as if we're the only two people in the room. "Edward Masen is in every part of this show. He's given us all the ideas, his valuable time, and his incredible talent, because he's a generous man, and I love him very much."

I can see she's starting to get emotional, but I don't want to make it worse by going to her because I know she'll fall apart, so I just smile and stand for the applause.

"I will miss this school, all the children, and the staff who have welcomed me and given me this opportunity. Believe me, tonight was going to be a lot less entertaining until Edward got involved." I chuckle, glad when I see her laugh.

"Now, there are refreshments in the next room and, once again, thank you so much for buying tickets and for putting up with all the practice at home. Have a very Merry Christmas."

She's so brave, so very grown-up. She thanks everyone else when she's the one who put in most of the work. I want to go to her. I want to drag her aside and find out what that wink from her boss meant, but there's a never-ending procession of people coming up to talk to her, so I have to wait and busy myself packing up my gear.

"Hey, Mister Lonesome." I look up and she's there, giving me a look that says she loves me. "Thank you so much, Edward."

"Baby, do you have something to tell me?"

"Ugh… what do you mean?"

The flicker in her eyes tells me she does. "Your boss had a strange reaction to one of my questions. Have you been accepted somewhere?"

Bella sighs and answers, "I wanted to wait until we were alone to tell you. I only found out this afternoon."

"What's the school?" I ask, still unsure of the where.

"This has always been my first choice. It's a dual degree, a masters in social work and a doctor of law. I have to do internships in both. I'll have to pass the bar exam, Edward," she says, excitedly. "I still have so many subjects I have to pass, but if I do well, I start in the fall."

She still hasn't answered the main question.

"Where is this going to happen? I mean… what college?"

"Loyola," she answers with a grin.

I swallow the lump in my throat. "That's Chicago, right?"

She nods and I feel the smile take over my face.

"You'll need somewhere to live."

"I will," she says, taking my hand.

"I have this big apartment in Chicago."

"I know."

"Garrett said your parents would never accept you living in sin."

She starts to speak and then stops. "…did he?"

She's killing me. It's either true or she's teasing me. I look at her, thinking we just met in May, and it's only December, but I know what I want, so I'm just going for it.

"I guess we had better get married then, if you're moving in."

The joy on her face is instant, then the tongue pokes out between her teeth.

"Yes." She cups my jaw in her hands and kisses me before saying, "I've imagined you asking me to marry you so many ways and, Edward, it was never like this."

"Do you want me to go down on one knee? I know I'm not doing this right. Should I say I love you when you already know how much? Should I say you are everything I want, because you are? Oh… should I be asking Charlie for your hand first?"

"Always knew you were going to marry her, Edward." We look down to see Charlie, pushing off from where he was leaning against the stage below us.

"Daaaad?" Bella whines at him.

"Better join me for a whiskey," he adds casually, taking a bite of a sandwich and, just like that, it's settled. We're getting married. It wouldn't be very mature of me to fist pump right now, but that's how I feel.

* * *

On a warm spring day as I wait for my bride, I look at the assembled people in front of me, and I'm glad we don't have sides for the bride and groom. Bella's big family and her friends from college and the preschool dominate the numbers in this church. My side is only a handful of people: my parents, Rose's parents and partners, Esme, and the kids.

Smiling at my parents, I'm happy that they've stayed together to see me marry, wondering if there is hope for them now they're getting older. My father has been very generous with the time he's given Bella, and she credits him with her good marks in her recent exams. It's not true, of course. I've seen her asleep at her desk, surrounded by books.

Charlie and Renee never put any pressure on us to get married immediately. We did get the ring quickly, holding a big engagement party, and Bella moved in officially just before her classes started the third week of January. The only thing the Swans requested was that the wedding took place in the family church, St. Mary's Cathedral in Lafayette.

I have four groomsmen alongside me, my closest family, Garrett, and the members of Mister Lonesome. As Kate's belly swelled, Garrett became a little more human, a little more eager to have time at home, so I never had to sack him. Today he's my best man.

Bella's maid of honor is Angela. She's very tight with Esme these days, but Esme wanted the girls to come to the wedding so she declined. Without any female cousins, Bella was free to choose who she wanted and Jane, Rose and Alice were thrilled to join us. Liam and Emily, the two youngest in the family, apart from Garrett's new baby, are also part of the wedding party, but only for the walk down the aisle.

A rustle of activity moves through the congregation.

"Are you ready?" Garrett asks, yawning as he checks he has the rings. "No nerves?"

I don't even have to think about the answer. I shake my head and reply, "Nope."

"Here we go," he says, and the organist plays, startling his son, Alex, who starts to wail.

Coming out of the bright sunlight into the church, Bella takes over the entrance. The glow behind her gossamer veil makes her appear other-worldly, like an angel amongst us. The base of the dress is so soft-looking, like a river of white cotton candy, that it gives the impression she's walking on a cloud. Without any fuss, she takes her father's arm and waits to come down the aisle.

The crying escalates, and poor Kate is beside herself. Alex has been unsettled since they left Chicago, and neither she nor Garrett got much sleep last night after leaving the rehearsal dinner early. Bella has spent time with them in the two months since he was born, and she says that there's nothing wrong with Alex. He just picks up on the stress coming off Kate.

Charlie and Bella come closer and slow as they approach. I feel like I should welcome them and smile at Charlie who nods at me. He cringes and looks over at Kate when the church fills with another round of loud screaming from Alex.

As I admire my bride, I hear Charlie say, "I do," and realize I've missed the priest asking the question about who gives this woman to be married to this man. Charlie places his daughter's hand in mine, leaning towards me to say, "Happy wife, happy life," and then winks before he goes to stand with Renee.

When I lift Bella's veil, she beams and I gasp at how powerful her beauty is in the soft natural light inside this cathedral. Her eyes are a vivid blue this morning, but I don't see any evidence of tears. She's just glowing from inside.

We turn to face the priest who asks everyone to be seated. Glancing at Garrett, I see his tension physically manifest during another loud interruption from his son. He rocks on his feet like he's unsure where his responsibilities lie. Bella squeezes my hand as if she's seeing it too. We hear Kate say, "I'll take him outside."

Bella says, "No." Looking at me, seeking permission, I nod so she can hand her flowers to Angela. She lifts the front of her dress and takes a few steps to Kate and the baby who is frantically clawing at his mother and pulling her hair. Bella holds her arms out and Kate's shoulders drop, both in relief and embarrassment.

I want to study this, how she holds him, how she soothes him with soft words in his ear, because the effect is almost instant. His little body melts into hers and his hand comes to a stop on her breast. It makes Bella giggle which sends laughter through the congregation, but Alex is already out cold. She's cast a spell on him, just like she's done with me. In that moment, my heart is filled with even more love for her, imagining her doing this very thing with the children we are going to have.

_This girl…_ She's a wonder, my baby whisperer, who swept into my world and changed it forever. Now my future couldn't be brighter or better. I have balance in my life, and I'm doing what makes me happy. I perform with people I respect. I play gigs at one of the most famous jazz clubs in the city and sell out concerts that keep evolving with new music. I'm still a concert pianist, but only when the orchestra is well prepared. I'm going to write a score for a movie later in the year.

The greatest gift Bella has given me in this emotional journey I've been on since meeting her, is a renewed passion to write. "Whisper" rose to a very decent forty-eight on the charts, and I have another fifty pieces in my studio I've started and abandoned over the years.

The biggest challenge is going to be balancing Bella's study and work with us having babies. We both want to have them while I'm still young, so we're not going to leave it long to get started. I think she's realistic in believing that she'll be in her thirties when her career really takes off, and by then, I plan to be composing full-time. I'll never be anything like Edward Senior. I want my kids to love and respect me, and to do that, I need to be in their life, encouraging them to follow their own passions.

We're going on a honeymoon on Monday. The three nights in New York, followed by four weeks in Europe, will be Bella's first time out of the country. I'll get to show her some of the highlights of the trip I took in my early twenties, and I know I'm going to see a new Europe through her eyes. After studying so hard for the last five months, she deserves a good break. She's ready for her future, though, and she's told me that watching me change my life inspired her to go after what she wanted. She says we're soul mates.

_I recently read somewhere that a soul mate is the one who makes your life come alive, and that's exactly how I feel about this girl._

THE END

Baby Whisperer was voted into the top 10 fics completed in May 2015, so thank you very much if you voted. Go over to www . twifanfictionrecs . com and check out the amazing completed stories to read and vote in the next poll.

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**Heartfelt thanks to Nic for taking a chance and agreeing to pre-read for a person she didn't know at all. I LOVE every suggestion you made! VampyreGirl86 is like a translator from Aussie into American now, and your comments are so good. Hadley just gets it and has such impeccable standards that's it's rare you would ever question a change she made. Thank you all so much for making this better in every way.**

**See you next time.**

**xxx Compass**


	10. Chapter 10

_**This futuretake is dedicated to an incredible lady who supported the story from the time I first posted it. Nic gave me her time, pre-reading the chapters except for the first, keeping me on track, and turning me into a friend and fan. **_

_**Especially for your birthday, Nic - November 4th, 2015.**_

_**Thank you so much to the people who helped me along the way. In chronological order - AudiR8, VampyreGirl86, Beach, Hadley, Nic and Ipsita - and to those who read, favorited, pimped, and sent me such beautiful reviews, mwah!**_

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**Chapter 10 **

_**Edwa****rd - ****September, 2018**_

Bella's text arrives as I'm getting in a cab after another long day at the Disney studios.

"_Can we Skype tonight?"_

"Sure, about ten?"

"_Are you going out?"_

"Yeah, to dinner with people from the studio."

When there's no response, I get agitated. She knows I hate open-ended texts. No one I know ever says goodbye anymore, and it makes me feel grumpy and old. I couldn't even afford a cell phone when I was Bella's age.

Annoyed, I call her. "Are we finished, or is there more to this conversation?"

"_I'm sorry."_ She sounds down, like something isn't right.

"No, _I'm _sorry. Are you okay, Bella?"

"_Yeah, I'm just…"_

"How's your grandfather?"

Marcus is recovering from an episode that rocked the whole family. He'd already had a series of stents put in to open up his arteries, then spent a week in the hospital while they assessed if he was strong enough for a heart valve replacement.

Everything went well until he and Marie were leaving the hospital, and he arrested in the elevator, still on the cardiac floor, the best possible place in the world for his heart to fail. He got the new valve, but he's still coming to terms with his mortality. Bella knows she nearly lost him, and she's determined to find time to visit him in Lafayette. We're driving down there this weekend.

"_He's doing okay. I just feel very possessive of you at the moment. I'm really missing you."_

I hate hearing her say this. "Oh, baby, I'll be home on Friday."

"_I know, but I was watching the video for 'Whisper' last night. It makes me emotional."_

Sometimes I forget how hard this is for my wife. Living in a new city where Garrett and Kate are her only family, she sees Esme, but she has no close friends near her age. I can't compare my life to hers. While I've been away, I've either had the band with me or been entertained by studio executives, and I've been used to this way of life for a very long time.

In some ways, my absences have been good for us. She's encouraged me to live my dream while she threw herself into her studies. It's just gone on for too long, and I want to come home.

Bella has managed to finish her Master's in Social Work, fast-tracked over two years, while somehow fitting in the first half of a legal degree. She will now concentrate on the rest of her Doctor of Law degree with less pressure. The amount of work up until now has been brutal, especially when she's had to fit in her internships by working long hours over the vacations, effectively giving her no break.

I don't know how she's done it. She's a marvel, my wife.

The punishing schedule she took on has meant her friends from college are no more than acquaintances. Groups of these people have come to our home, arguing cases, researching, and quoting statistics. I quite enjoyed it, but Bella banned me early on, telling me I was "too much of a distraction," so I've been relegated to my studio on nights when they meet.

It really doesn't worry me since that was my main pastime before she moved in, but I love the way she wants to make it up to me when they leave.

"We'll watch it together on Friday night and laugh at how stupid I look."

Chuckling, she replies, _"Yeah, okay, but you never look stupid to me."_

Now_ I'm_ feeling emotional. "Do you know how much I love you, Bella Masen?"

Still laughing, she says, _"Same here."_ I wonder if she is trying to hide that she's crying.

"So, are we Skyping?"

"_No, I'll probably get teary. I'm going to have an early night instead. You should too."_

"Why's that?"

After a long pause, she answers, _"Because I want you in peak form Friday night."_

"Are we celebrating something?"

"_Maybe."_

I like this. It creates an interesting visual. "Well, then... I will be."

"_You better be. See ya later, handsome."_

"See ya later."

Smiling as I end the call, I am now sitting in the back of a cab getting an erection. Trying to channel my thoughts into something nice I can do for her, I decide to bring flowers. I haven't done that in a while.

_Looks like I'm hitting hit the gym every day this week too._

I let myself into the apartment, and my wife comes sliding down the hallway in socks a la Tom Cruise from _Risky Business_. She's wearing a new black silk robe, and her hair is tied up as if she's just come out of the shower.

"You're early!" she calls out in surprise.

"Got the earlier flight." Trying to sound casual, the smirk gives me away.

"You're here." Her eyes sparkle as they land on the flowers I bought her. "They're for me?"

Bella is so naturally beautiful right now, I want to squeeze her, but I nod and let her enjoy her bouquet.

"They're gorgeous." She smells them, then looks up, placing her hand on my jaw. "Thank you. You already know much I missed you."

I can't hold back a second longer. Wrapping her in my arms, I feel the length of her spine and smell her hair. Discovering she's naked under the robe, I lean back and raise an eyebrow. "Is this what you are wearing tonight?"

"No, I haven't had a chance to dress yet."

As soon as I show her my pout, she smiles and kisses me, softly at first, slowly revealing her hunger with her tongue and a whimper. The silk robe is so luxurious and sensual that I could fuck her where we stand without taking it off, but she pushes on my chest.

"Have a shower, and I'll put the flowers in water."

_This girl… She's gonna make me wait._

Grumbling to myself, I turn toward the bathroom. This is not the way I imagined my arrival. When I saw that bill come through for "Fleur of England" and checked out their website, I thought she was playing with me, making "plans" for my return, filling my head with fantasies and whipping up my expectations.

I'm used to these purchases appearing on my credit card before birthdays or any number of anniversaries we celebrate. Ever since I've known her, Bella has dressed up in the bedroom, and if expensive lingerie is my wife's one extravagance, then I've wholeheartedly encouraged it.

I love the way she follows up with other clues, single words and cryptic phrases sent to keep me fixated on our reunion. She makes sure by the time I arrive at the apartment, I have only one thing on my mind.

Sitting down to take my shoes off, I'm disappointed, hardly proud of these petulant thoughts, but damn it, don't I provide the things we share? It's never been any different. She pays for herself from the royalties from "Whisper," and I pay for us. I guess I've been spoiled, and that black robe is nice and all, but it wasn't what I was hoping for.

As I throw my shirt in the hamper, I realize she could be cross with me because I've forgotten a significant event, but what is it? I've been wracking my brain for days now.

When I turn on the shower, I can't think of anything specific, probably because every day has been a celebration since Bella came into my life.

I was so wrong about marriage, never imagining the joys of having a partner I adore. Each time she tells me how she feels about me, she owns me. She is the reason I leave her, encouraged to follow my instincts. She is also the reason I come home early, desperate for her love, her voice, her hugs, her body.

I'm washing my hair when I hear Bella humming. Rinsing the shampoo in the hope she's joining me, I get a glimpse of the black of the robe and the towel she's holding. Disappointed again, I turn the water off.

When she hands me the towel, I notice the swell of her breasts, enhanced by a certain kind of bra. I'm still locked on them when she takes the towel from me and starts drying my hair, a smile spreading across her face.

"What?" I ask, smiling right back.

"I love your hair," she says as she rubs my head, then she watches herself, dabbing my skin gently while her other hand traces the same path. I'm getting very turned on, and I pull on the sash of the robe.

Fuck me… My mouth gapes open.

Skin-colored silk and lace. My dick jumps at the sight of her tits in the bra, perfectly round and pushed up. The top half is see-through lace, featuring her beautiful nipples. The panties are a work of art, made from the same transparent fabric, but the section between her legs is shiny silk. It's like a beacon, enticing me to look there.

I do. I can't take my eyes off it, and now I can't keep my hands off her either.

"Are we going somewhere tonight?" I ask, hoping to God the answer is no.

"I thought we'd stay in," she replies, trying to finish drying me, giggling when my erection gets in the way. She slips out of my embrace, takes off the robe, and hangs it on the back of the door. "You coming, big boy?" she asks, glancing over her shoulder, leaving me standing there with a dick ready for action and a view of her ass in those see-through panties.

_This girl… One day I will stop trying to anticipate her._

"Looks like it," I say to myself, grinning as I flip the towel over the glass and follow her. She's pulling down the covers, and I approach her from behind, trying to be gentle when I'm already bending her over in my mind. Caressing her arms, I kiss her neck, and she stops what she's doing, leaning on me. Exploring the bra, I groan when her nipples start to strain against the lace.

"God, you're a beautiful woman."

She hums as her fingers thread into my hair. This encourages me to keep going, so I bite the fleshy part of her shoulder, hearing her moan. When she pushes back on my erection, I surround her with my arm and hold her in place as we sway together. With electricity coursing between us, I slip my fingers into her panties.

"Edward," she whispers, pressing her head against my shoulder. "That's so good."

Turning her head, she kisses me, and a rhythm sets in. We move as one: our hips, my fingers, her breathy sounds, and her tongue on mine as she pulls on my hair.

Knowing her body so well, I squeeze a nipple, and she shudders as her knees buckle under the weight of her orgasm. Fuck, I love this, knowing I'm the one who makes it happen.

She turns around and kisses me passionately, and I get my hands on her beautiful ass. Maneuvering me to sit down, she takes the panties off and lowers herself, rubbing her pussy up and down my dick. Feeling her ass while watching where we're connected, I know if I don't take control, she's going to break me doing this, and I'll come all over us. Just as I'm about to pick her up and roll us over, she lifts up and sinks down on me, making me cry out.

"Lean back," she commands, and her tits scrape my chest. I close my eyes when she she kisses my neck, her breath hot on my skin. The rhythm returns, and my hips rise in perfect synch with her downward movements. "I love to fuck you," she says, with a sultry voice and a smile matching mine. We're getting this tempo so right these days.

Pulling the front of the exquisite bra down, I suck on her tits, and feel her clench me. The harder I suck, the more her pussy tightens, and her sounds turn husky. It's so erotic that her orgasm pulsing around me makes me explode inside her.

We stay locked together for a while, kissing softly, and then lie down, snuggling. Multiple orgasms still make her sleepy, but her face in my neck and her arm and thigh draped over me is incredibly comforting. She whispers she loves me as she falls asleep, and I kiss her hair, using this precious time to enjoy the feel of her body.

* * *

Bella instructs me to park in the visitor's section out front right next to the sign that says "Brookdale Senior Living Solutions."

"Why are we parking here?"

"He's not living in the apartment at the moment."

After the ubiquitous pump of hand sanitizer, Bella leads the way. We find Marcus asleep in a hospital-like room, with Marie sitting next to him, watching television.

"Marcus?" she calls to her husband, attempting to wake him up. Bella tries to intervene, asking her not to disturb him, but Marie continues until Marcus opens his eyes, surprised to see his granddaughter standing next to his bed.

"Oh, you don't have to come visit me, girl."

"I wanted to, Grandpa," she says, hugging him softly.

Marcus looks at me, questioning who I am, and then smiles. "Edward."

He's changed since the last time I saw him. The bone structure in his face is more pronounced, and his eyes look sunken. "How are you feeling, Marcus?"

"I want to go home." Marie takes his hand and gives it a squeeze. "I'm sick of all the tests."

"It won't be long now, my darling." She tries to reassure him, rubbing his arm.

"You said that last week," he grumbles and then looks at me. "I can't sleep in this place."

Without knowing the ordeal he's going through, I respond, "There's nothing like your own bed." He huffs, then looks past me to the doorway.

"I thought I saw the Porsche!" We turn around, seeing Garrett, Kate, and Alex come in. "You should have said you were coming down. We could have driven together." Alex goes straight to Bella with his arms raised, and she picks him up, kissing his cheek.

I just look at Garrett and smile, relieved he's no longer my manager. Watching him make a grand entrance is now amusing, rather than irritating.

Only now can we laugh about the day we were all weary of living in hotels, and Garrett proposed the idea of taking the show overseas. After a collective sigh, the others asked if he was crazy, with Rose getting worked up enough to kill him, so I stopped the bloodshed by firing him.

Surprisingly, Garrett said he was relieved once everyone settled down. With baby number two on the way, he said he was tired too, admitting he thrived on the thrill of the initial success more than the pressure of staying on top.

Jesus, he wasn't the one rehearsing and performing every day.

We wrapped up _Little Girl Blue_ after a run that surprised all of us. No one saw us returning for repeat performances and selling out again, nor did we ever dream of the ridiculous amounts of money we made.

We played the final two weeks in St. Louis, and Bella and Esme flew down for the last performance. The whole cast celebrated with a late supper at _360_, the rooftop restaurant of the Hilton where we were staying. Everyone else was talking about long vacations, bigger apartments, private schools. I was flying directly to LA for another two weeks work.

"So, forty next year, Edward. Are you two making plans to start a family yet?" Emmett asked, during the meal. We'd had this question a few times lately from Bella's family but never from our friends.

"I never expected to be married, let alone have a child by the time I was forty. We're too busy for kids, Em. They'll wait."

Bella's bare foot had been right beside mine, playing around with my ankle, and now it was gone. She was already moody, frustrated by getting her period the one weekend we had together in a month, so I'd been treading on eggshells with her all night. When I frowned at her, concerned I'd said the wrong thing, she placed her knife and fork on her plate and leaned back in her chair.

"I'm full," she announced, sweetly smiling as her foot returned, so I figured I wasn't in trouble after all. It was a great party, and when they nudged us out the door at 2:00 am, even Alice was drunk, something I hadn't seen for years.

Alice Brandon is my new manager. She's earned the title and money as the only woman, apart from my wife, whom I can totally trust.

Garrett is now showing photos of Alex to his parents. Soon Marie and Marcus have their hands on Kate's belly, feeling the baby move.

Marcus' face lights up, and he asks, "Did you find out yet?"

Nodding, Garrett looks disappointed. "It's a boy."

"Another boy," Marcus states, shaking his head.

"What's wrong with boys?" I ask, wondering why they are reacting this way.

Bella has the answer. "It's just weird. Everyone has boys."

"Huh, what about Emily?" She was the flower girl at our wedding.

"She's a Swan, Edward. There are no girls in the Baker family except Mom and me."

Wow, I had no idea the odds were so stacked against females in this family, but nothing surprises me anymore. Personally, I couldn't care less. I'll be happy with healthy.

"I'm going to have a girl," Bella announces, beaming at me, rocking Alex in her arms.

"Good luck with that," Garrett retorts as I look at my wife, whose eyes are telling me something. Maybe she's been thinking about this again. I don't ever bring up the subject when she already has so much on her plate, but I'm ready whenever she wants to start trying.

"Don't leave it too long," Marcus says to Bella, clutching Marie's hand, and I try to squash a stray thought that he might not be around to see our children born.

After an interminable hour of Garrett monopolizing the conversation, telling us all about the new artists he's going to be managing, I don't blame Marcus for saying he's tired. We leave them and head over to see Renee and Charlie.

They ask about the picture, and I'm happy to say the Walt Disney Company has surpassed my expectations, embracing my style of classical jazz fusion, and they've given me access to the most incredible musicians in the country. I'm proud of what we've done for this movie.

This week, they took me to Pixar to view the new animation work, where outlines are becoming fleshed out characters. _Straycats _has a cast drawn from the thirty-seven species of cats and one meerkat who thinks he belongs. It's a feel-good movie, and I've enjoyed the process of collaborating on the jazz numbers, but the big orchestral pieces are all mine.

I still feel like I need to justify the breakup of my business relationship with Garrett, so I tell them about the amazing job Alice has done dismantling _Little Girl Blue_. She freed me up to go straight to LA and finalize the score for the picture. Both parents are thrilled that I'm going to be home a lot more now.

Charlie asks what my plans are now the show has come to an end, and I mention a new project with Disney, which could mean another year of writing time. I'm careful to say that nothing is definite yet. Bella isn't excited like I thought she would be, asking questions about the time I'll need to spend in LA. She doesn't stop until I assure her that it will be no more than a few weeks here and there. For the most part, I'll be composing at home.

Bella and Renee disappear upstairs, leaving Charlie and me watching football, and when the game is over, I have to go find them to say we should get going. Bella and her mother both look like they've been crying, but I pretend not to notice. Once again, I get the feeling that I've missed something. When I asked Bella if we were celebrating, she definitely said, "Maybe," and I still haven't had the guts to ask what I've forgotten. My wife is too nice to put me in my place, and sometimes she should.

Bella hugs Charlie goodbye, but she lingers with her arms around Renee, and they rock for a while. Sometimes I feel cruel taking their only daughter away with me, but I'm blessed to have such good in-laws. I want to be just like them one day when we have our own kids.

"Are you alright, Bella?" I ask as soon as we take off.

"Never better," she responds honestly.

"Is there something I've done wrong?"

"No," she says, surprised by the question, placing her hand on my thigh. "Why?"

Shaking my head, I'm not sure how to answer, so I go with the obvious. "You seemed upset about the new Disney thing."

"No, it's fine. Just don't go committing to anything big unless we talk about it, okay?"

That's fair enough. I shouldn't have sprung it on her for the first time in front of her parents anyway.

"Okay." I grab her hand and kiss it, knowing that if it's important, she'll tell me eventually.

When I bring her hand back to my thigh, I can feel her eyes on me, and when I glance at her, I feel both self-conscious and vain. Without speaking, she conveys how much she loves me.

"Thank you so much for taking me today, Edward," she says, moving her hand on my thigh.

"My pleasure, baby."

Once we're home, we go in different directions. I head to the living room in search of music, and she goes to our bedroom. She says she doesn't have to study tonight, and I feel like dancing. Scanning through my CDs, I find what I'm looking for - a plain paper cover with my handwriting. The selection of songs is my journey, the memories of finding my own style of music.

The first track was the start of my love affair with Otis Redding, called "Your Feeling Is Mine." The beat grabbed me initially, then the unusual chord changes and bridges stayed with me for days after I heard it. It's one of those songs that makes you dance with your hips, and that's what I'm doing when I hear Bella.

"Play that again," she calls out, coming up the hallway, and I take in what she's wearing. Bright blue, it's like one of her baby dolls, only it stops at her hips with barely-there matching shorts. It doesn't look tight, but boy, does it fit. There's more see-through lace too, but it's hugging her cleavage, modesty covering her nipples this time. "It's so cool." She dances toward me, mirroring my movements, making me smile at this gorgeous woman who just happens to be my wife.

"What do you call this outfit?" I ask smirking.

"It's a short set," she answers, running her hands over my chest, still swinging her hips. "Do you like it?"

I nod, feeling her ass, and I note that the shorts don't do much of a job of covering her cheeks. "Do you buy these outfits for me?"

"Yeah," she answers, putting her arms around my neck. "Well, they make me feel sexy."

_This girl… what a win that is for both of us._

The track changes to another Otis Redding song called "That's How Strong My Love Is," and we keep dancing as she pushes her thigh between mine.

"What is this music? Have I heard you play it before?" she asks, looking up into my eyes.

"They're songs that pulled me out of my cocoon of strict classical music. I thought I was heading into R&amp;B before I discovered a certain kind of jazz." As the song finishes, I say, "This next one is another favorite."

"Ah, I love this," she says, surprising me when she knows the words to "Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay."

"Otis Redding wasn't right for me: not enough room for piano. Doesn't mean I can't appreciate it." I take her hand from my neck and spin her out a few times, making sure I get a look at the rear of those shorts before I clutch her tightly to me when she comes back.

"Then I found this, and I thought I was home." The original "Georgia On My Mind" by Ray Charles plays, and we dance with my cheek resting against her temple. She's not very tall without her shoes, only slightly higher than my shoulders, but she's always felt like a perfect fit for me. We don't speak during the track, and she rubs her hand over my abs, eventually under my t-shirt.

I could stop right now and carry her to bed, but I'm not quite finished yet.

"Is this Dave Brubeck?" she asks.

"Yeah, a light switched on when I heard their interpretation of 'Georgia.'" It made me appreciate the freedom of jazz and led me to Nina Simone." Kissing her forehead, I add, "I might not have ever done anything about it if I hadn't met you, and I would never have been truly fulfilled."

Bella runs her fingers around my ear, giving me a look of appreciation, and says, "I don't think that's true, but I love you for feeling that way. This music has magic, Edward."

"No, _you're _the magic. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Her eyes soften, and she says, "Make love to me." Without hesitation, I pick her up, leaving the music playing and the lights on, lost in the passion of her kiss by the time we reach the bedroom.

* * *

Since Bella's college schedule is lighter now, she's not coming home exhausted and immediately hitting the books. Still organized and certainly committed to her third year of law, she leaves at the same time every morning with her driver, using the library before class. It didn't take her long to realize it was convenient to work in a roomy comfortable vehicle with access to the Internet.

She says I distract her when she's studying at home, and the hours spent in the library and car seem to be enough for her to complete her research and revise. It's a good thing because she's constantly horny, and I'm reaping the rewards of these honeymoon-like pursuits. With everyone else away on vacation, it's just us, and the sex is becoming addictive.

I fill in my days practicing for my upcoming performance with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and re-organizing my studio. Going through the pieces I've started over the years, nothing inspires, so I decide to visit my parents. My father is still mentoring Bella, and her grades have been exceptional, so I want to ask him how she did in her recent internship. He organized it so he should have some feedback by now.

Feeling numb as I pull into the driveway of the house where I grew up, Edward Senior opens the front door, holding his arm out for me to come in without even a word of welcome.

"Is Mom here?" I ask, knowing where she is from the delicious smell of roast coming from the kitchen. It brings back a distant fond memory. Bella doesn't cook much, except for the occasional breakfast. She hasn't had time, and Alice has trained her to order amazing food, so I don't associate this household activity with my wife. From the woman in front of me, however, it's very comforting.

"Edward!" She comes over, holding my cheeks like I'm the kid who hasn't visited them in years, although Bella and I were here together before I left for St. Louis.

"You wanted to see me?" My father interrupts, sitting at their table, taking a sip of the tea he was obviously drinking when I arrived. I kiss Mom's cheek, and she invites me to join him, offering me a cup of coffee. Accepting, I know I'll probably need it.

"Yeah, I just wondered if you've had any feedback yet on Bella's internship."

"Are you actually interested in this?"

_Fucking hell, he's a charmer. No, I've driven halfway across town to chew the fat with you, old man._

"Of course I am. She's my wife."

He drains his cup slowly and waits for Mom to take it before he answers me. "They have the same opinion as I do. Bella is not cut out for the courtroom. They will eat her alive."

I take this as a personal affront, feeling the hackles rise. "Don't you learn that sort of thing? She's only in year three."

"You don't learn it, Edward. You're born with it. Where do you think your showmanship came from? You inherited that directly from me. You could have been a devastating barrister if you'd only listened to my advice."

_Oh boy, he will never give up._

I take a deep breath and say quietly, "I wanted to be a musician."

"And you could have done that as a hobby. You didn't need to choose it as a career."

"Christ, Dad, let it go. It's been over twenty years. Can't you enjoy my success?" I make a mental note to avoid the trap of interfering in my children's choice of career. This issue is a wound in our relationship that won't heal.

"Just once I'd like to hear you acknowledge _my _success. I didn't have the opportunities you did, son."

"Here we go…"

"Oh, stop it. You two are so much alike!" Mom interjects by motioning for Dad to carve the roast, and it guts me, thinking she sees similarities between me and _him_.

He gets up obediently, and I sigh, trying to focus on the reason I came here. "What are you saying, that Bella is wasting her time?"

"No, of course not. She would be wasting her time sitting around a court of law when she's a brilliant researcher and innovator. Hell, I would have killed to have her on my team for some of my big cases, but she needs someone with clout and flair to plead to a jury or panel. Her job is over by then, and we're not talking about grievances that arise from greed or anger between a few parties. They affect the greater society. Bella has an innate ability to analyse the evidence and find precedents to give an attorney the best chance at success. It will take many years to prove these cases before they ever go to court."

It is heartening to hear him talk about my wife in such glowing terms, and he does have experience she could benefit from.

"So where do you see her working?"

"She did very well in her Leadership and Development specialty for her master's, so I'm expecting a senior role in one of the agencies is where she could influence change. Once she's ready to take on the system legally, if I'm still around, I would be happy to plead the case for her."

Jesus, in some ways, he knows her better than I do. Does he see her as the child he never had?

"Thank you, Dad. I'm sure she would be thrilled to hear that."

"I've already made the offer. She's an incredible young woman, Edward, and she deserves our support."

Now I'm speechless. It actually feels like his approval of my wife could bind us together in a common goal for once. Mom puts down a plate in front of me, and I thank her, smelling a different version of what my life could be like, spending time with these two over a meal as if things were normal.

Surprisingly, it doesn't feel as bad as I thought.

Once I fill them in on where I'm at with the Disney movie, Mom asks me if we now have time to start a family. I expect Dad to jump down her throat and say it will be years before Bella will have time, but Bella has already told him that I'm going to be the child's main caregiver, and he actually agrees it's the logical choice for our careers and ages.

_What spell has my wife cast over him?_

As I drive back to the apartment, I think about our current situation and wonder if it's time to bring up the subject of babies again. Since I'm at a crossroads in my life, I'm sure a little forward planning wouldn't hurt. Rehearsing what I'm going to say, I think I'm ready until I see her bouncing in the door and lose my nerve when she sits in my lap.

"What's up?" she asks, and when I frown, she explains. "You've got that look on your face like you have something to tell me."

_This girl... she reads me like a book._

"I had lunch with my parents today."

"Oh… how did that go?" she asks, biting her bottom lip.

"Not that bad actually."

She beams at me and says, "That's wonderful," then she nuzzles my neck.

I guess it's now or never. I can use my mother's question innocently.

"Mom asked me today if we are thinking about starting a family."

"Mmm, what do you think about the idea?" she mumbles and kisses my jaw.

"It's growing on me again. What is stopping us now?"

Using her most sultry voice in my ear, she answers, "Nothing," then nibbles on my earlobe. This is going to get out of hand quickly if I don't stop her, and I want her definition of "nothing."

Moving her back, I'm about to ask her to clarify when she smirks and says, "I stopped taking the pill that weekend in St. Louis."

"What?"

"Yep, you told Emmett you were disappointed that you were turning forty before you had a child."

Maybe I did say that. "Oh, Bella, I never meant it literally. Please don't do this because of my age."

She shakes her head slowly as if it's been decided. "You said we're too busy, but everyone's busy, and they still have babies. We are currently in a unique position. I have more time, and you can work from home. Edward, we have enough money to hire Mary Poppins to help us. Anyway, I think it's already a done deal. My boobs are sore. Mom said that was her first symptom."

I gasp as my heart starts pounding. "How… when… how is this possible?"

Shrugging, her face lights up, and she touches my jaw. "Take away contraception, and that's what happens, probably the weekend you came home. I'm going with the night we were dancing."

"Are you overdue? Have you bought a pregnancy test?" When she nods, I gush out a breath and almost beg, "Please take the test. I wanna know now."

After the sweetest kiss, she gets up and walks down the hallway. It seems like she's gone forever, and I'm pacing by the time she comes back.

"Well... are we pregnant?"

A smile spreads across her face, and she wraps her arms around me. "What do you think of the name, Georgia Masen?"

Oh my God, _this girl…_

* * *

**June 2019**

Heavily pregnant was not the way my wife wanted to join me on the red carpet for the June 5th premiere of _Straycats_.

"What the hell am I going to wear?" she asked.

"Alice will help you find something," I offered, knowing nothing about maternity eveningwear. They went off together and came back with a box. Bella growled when I asked her to model the dress, so I stayed out of it.

"Why do I have to get a medical clearance? I'm perfectly fine. Stupid airlines, we're going first class for Christ's sake."

"I know, but those are the rules."

She stormed off muttering.

"I'm so sick of exams! Why do they have to be now?"

"Are you sure you want to go, babe?" It was a bad question. She glared at me, daring me to say more. I shut up.

And so it went on. There was no way I could convince her that it would be easier if she stayed in Chicago. No, she was coming to Hollywood, and nothing was going to stop her. We had to stay at the Hotel Bel-Air, with a spa. She insisted. Someone good had to do her hair and makeup. It was so unlike her, but I enjoyed it. I'd been known to assert myself with hotel managers who failed to have my room ready on arrival or when things weren't up to standard. I wondered if it was my child inside her bringing out the demanding queen.

Actually, I was hoping she wouldn't stay home because I wanted to show off the bump to the world. Well, it was more than a bump. She was huge and glowing with pregnancy.

We had to obtain written clearance from the doctor before she could fly. She couldn't get comfortable on the plane. Her ankles were swelling. Still, she soldiered on, blown away by the incredible suite with views of the canyon, relaxing in the spa, bikini-clad and magnificent. She charmed everyone at dinner that night.

The pool here is so beautiful that I excuse myself to swim and relax while the hair and makeup artist goes to work in our room. On my return, I hear her grumbling to herself when I enter the apartment.

"I look ridiculous!"

Following the sound of her voice, I find her standing in front of the mirror in her evening dress, looking more beautiful than ever. Her hair is the softest updo, enhancing the essence of her femininity. The dress is strapless, highlighting her beautiful curves, and yet full and floaty.

When Alice showed me the necklace, I wasn't sure, but now I see that it's perfect. A row of diamonds would have been my choice, but this funkier creation of sapphires, opals, and diamonds is more suitable for my young wife's blue dress.

"Stunning," I say as I admire her. I'm the one who looks ridiculous, standing in a towel next to this goddess.

"Really?"

"Yes, really," I answer, kissing her hand. "And I have something for you."

Lifting the necklace from the box, I drape it round her neck, and she gasps.

"Thank you. It's gorgeous. Oh my God, it's really gorgeous! Thank you so much."

"No, you're gorgeous. The two of you are," I add, smoothing my hand over her belly.

"Don't make me cry, Edward Masen," she says with a laugh, placing her hand over mine.

"Uh… can I kiss you?"

She giggles and nods, kissing me with the gentlest passion.

A hundred photos and interviews take up our time on the red carpet. We have kept Bella out of the public eye during the pregnancy, and the press has been gracious, so tonight everyone wants the details of the birth of our child. My involvement in the film is secondary to the designer of Bella's dress. Bella is sweet and excited, happy to say she has no idea of the child's sex. I really don't know what is going to happen if it's a boy because she is convinced she's having a girl.

By the time we sit down for the showing, Bella is exhausted.

We have two more days in LA before we come home. Again, she's uncomfortable on the plane, feeling the weight of the baby causing her pain. By the time we land in Chicago, a pattern has emerged, and it's apparent she's having contractions, so we go straight from the airport to the hospital. I'm beside myself with worry, thinking I've caused the baby to come early because of my stupid event, and I'm furious when I find out that Bella's obstetrician is out-of-town.

They confirm that Bella is in labor and place her in a wheelchair. I had planned to push her to the maternity suites myself, but now I've got two suitcases to deal with and an orderly with attitude who looks at them and raises his eyebrows. While a nurse prepares Bella for the birth, she gives me the job of calling Renee. I have to admit the baby is coming at thirty-eight weeks, and I leave the room so my wife won't see how upset I am.

"Don't worry about it," Renee says, without any concern. "Bella was born around thirty-eight weeks. She'll be fine. Do you want us to come up?"

"I… I don't know."

"We'll get in the car, Edward. Calm down."

I guess in a family where having babies is commonplace, they're used to this, but I'm not.

When I return to the room, Bella has a strap around her, connected to a monitor. She's on her own and crying, pressing the button to summon a nurse. I can see her pain has progressed.

_Why have they left her like this?_

"Do you need pain relief, baby?" I ask in a panic, and she nods. Racing out of the room, I yell for somebody to get in here. A nurse comes walking down the hall, asking me to wash my hands.

I feel like I'm about to explode. I tell the woman that Bella requires an immediate epidural, but she ignores me, methodically checking the readings on the machine before examining her again.

"No time. This baby's ready to be born."

The look of fear from Bella makes me go directly to her. I want to hold her, but I'm worried I'll cause her more agony. Instead, I keep kissing her temple and smoothing her hair.

A woman in different colored scrubs arrives, attempting to explain what's going to happen, but I can't hear her properly when Bella is screaming through her teeth. She tells her to pant, not push, but Bella yells back, asking her how she's supposed to stop.

Christ, the classes we've done haven't prepared us properly because this feels like chaos. I'm supposed to be playing her favorite music, rubbing her back, and feeding her ice when I'm actually helpless, watching her face turn bright red as she squeezes the life out of my hand.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry," I tell her sincerely.

"Now, Mrs. Masen," the woman commands. "... and hold your breath."

It goes on and on, coaxing her to hold back, demands to push, counting to ten. I try to help her lean forward.

And then it happens. It's like Bella has given up. She can't keep holding her breath anymore, and a gritty sound from somewhere deep escapes her. I'm ready to run up the hallway alongside her bed, holding her hand on the way to a C-Section, when she lets out a massive breath.

Bella closes her eyes and breathes out like they've achieved something, but I'm not sure what stage this is. They're talking quietly, working on something between her legs, but there's no sound of crying yet. I'm too afraid to look.

Bella clutches my wrist, and my heart stops when they lift our child. The most joyous sound fills the room – a cry and my wife's laughter. "A girl," the woman announces.

_Georgia_.

Tears stream down Bella's face as they place our baby on her chest, and she leans up to kiss me. It's crazy how much love I feel for them both already – separate, but still one.

Bella is shaky. Georgia is shaky, slippery with birth and changing color by the second. It's raw and bloody, this miracle of breathing air and turning pink. As they wipe her down, I smile, amazed at the ferocity of the noise she makes.

_Maybe she'll sing like Rose._

Bella tucks a cloth around Georgia and talks to her. The miniature hand that sticks out stops fluttering, and Georgia stops wailing. Bella is crying, kissing Georgia's head, and I feel courageous enough to place my hand on her tiny back, feeling her heat through the cloth.

"I love you," Bella says, holding my cheek, and I circle her wrist.

"I need a stronger word, baby," I respond, kissing her forehead.

The clock on the wall says it's just past 8:00 pm. At midday, we were boarding a flight as a couple expecting, and now we're a family. Too soon, they take Georgia aside for newborn tests, and I feel overwhelmed and exhausted, although I've done nothing.

After a first attempt to feed, they ask me to sit down and give me our baby. Bella is unsteady but able to walk to the shower with the help of a nurse. It seems like only minutes ago she was screaming in pain. Women are so strong. Resisting the temptation to unwrap my child, I decide to introduce myself instead. It turns out to be more emotional than I expected.

"Hello, Georgia, I'm your dad." Breathing out to steady myself, I go on. "I'm gonna be around a lot so we need to get along." Then she yawns, and I break down. "I have wanted you for so long." The force of the tears is overwhelming. "I just didn't realize it until I saw you."

Wiping my eyes, I'm glad she won't remember her father bawling when she was born. A few deep breaths bring me back, and I study the fine dusting of hair on her head.

They move Bella and Georgia to their room, and I call both sets of parents, laughing as I give them the news. Then I call everyone I know, reveling in the joy of my good fortune. Alice and Jasper offer to bring Bella's bag that sits in our apartment, packed for the hospital.

Joining my family, I find them both asleep, Bella with her lips on Georgia's head, and I record the moment on my phone. Eventually, tearing myself away from the sight, I climb into bed behind Bella, surrounding both of my girls with my arms.

_My girls…_

* * *

_**Happy birthday Nic, FicWhisperer! **_

_**Big love for all you did for me and for this story. You're amazing.**_

_**.**_

**_The songs for this chapter, Edward's early influences, as well as all the others are on my profile page. Check them out and see if you can connect with another time when this kind of music was breaking barriers :D_**


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